The Overmind
by Mr.Commander
Summary: The story of a Morian marine who lives through a Zerg invasion of an unknown Brood. Several elements borrowed from the game's events without following them. Rated M for graphic violence, foul language, and sexual content. Formatting complete! Please enjoy
1. The arrival

Chapter one: The arrival 

The door of the dropship slowly opened as the sun reflected into his eyes. The hot sun of Moria was bright the day of his arrival. Twenty-one year old Rodger Hertubiz flipped his Gauss rifle over his shoulder nervously. This was his first day as a marine in the field of battle against the ravenous alien swarm: the Zerg. The Zerg were an entirely biological race, driven by cannibalism and consumption of other species. The Zerg actually started out as small insect like creatures, much like worms. However, these small white worms were extremely resistant to harsh temperatures and soon developed the ability to burrow themselves into the skin of other creatures and assimilate their bodies over a long period of time. After a few generations, the creatures the Zerg had assimilated were hardly recognizable. They had grown razor-sharp teeth and claws; they had doubled in size, or had developed the ability to spit corrosive acid. How these Zerg were so cooperative and worked together in such a sadistic fashion was a mystery to the Kel-Morian combine, the army Rodger Hertubiz had just enlisted for.

Rodger had spent several years at the Morian Academy of marines, studying the strengths and weaknesses of the voracious Zerg. Today, Rodger was being put into his first battle, basically a "test" for him and his classmates at the Academy. The door to the flying transport ship was already opened, and the 24 marines Captain Ray Aureus was leading to their final exam were all as nervous, if not more nervous, than Rodger. All the marines walked out of the transport and awaited their Captain's instructions. At the demand of their leader, the troops gathered in a circle with Ray in the middle. Clearing his throat, Ray told his men what he had to say several times before.

"Men, future marines of the Kel-Morian combine, this is the final exam of your training. You have all succeeded on the written exam; now it is time to test your mettle against real Zerg. This is not a simulation. I repeat: this is not a simulation. If, for any reason at all, one of those dogs from hell scratches or bites you, retreat to the dropship and get help. Good luck, soldiers. You will have exactly two minutes to prepare yourselves and secure the preset positions. Remember what we said at the Academy yesterday: Team Blue, take the east, Team Red, the west, and Team Green, the north. The vicious critters can't possibly hope to land an attack against us from the South. The hill is too steep. Move out!"

After these words, the marines moved to their locations. The exam area was a small valley cornered by several hills, the southern pass blocked by a mountain. Rodger got into position with the rest of the Blue Team. He loaded his automatic Gauss rifle with several hundreds of bullets, turned the safety off, activated the kill count on the screen located on the top of his rifle and readjusted his encounter suit and helmet, powerful armour worn by all marines. The suit made the bearer nearly twice as large, for it had several layers of armour and included a flashlight on each shoulder. Rodger took a deep breath and waited for the two minutes to end. He wasn't sure if those two minutes seemed like two hours or two seconds, but he saw Ray Aureus move in the middle of the valley, holding a small cube shaped object with a headpiece constituted of several screens. Rodger had heard of such a device before. It was a Psi-Emitter, a small portable device that had the uncanny ability to lure Zerg creatures to its signal. The Zerg, rather stupid compared to other species, would blindly follow the signal even under heavy fire.

The valley where they would fight against the Zerg for the first time was crawling with Zerglings, the smallest type of Zerg, ever since the valley had been discovered. This made it the ultimate exam area. Rodger looked at the eastern pass. He heard the mechanical noise of several screens being turned on and rotating at high speed: the emitter had been activated. His green eyes looked around for the slightest movement. His sense of sight was not the first one to be stirred, however, for he heard gunshots behind him. Team Green had company. Rodger absolutely wanted to see a real Zergling, not a dead one, but he knew he couldn't leave the eastern pass. Before the marine apprentice could complain too much, a group of five Zerglings leapt to the side of one the hills of the pass.

A mix of excitement and fear ran through Rodger's spine as he looked upon a Zergling's white beady eyes for the first time. Zerglings resembled a mad cross breading between a dog and a velociraptor, with sharp teeth, a long tail, scaly brown skin and a long ruff situated on the back of their head. Before the staring contest between the Zergling and the marine could last too long, the Zerg creature leapt forward, followed by its four companions, definitely in the mood to rip some flesh right out of a few human foes. However, Kurt Belek, one of the biggest marines of all the teams and Rodger's friend, opened fire upon the Zerglings. Soon, the other soliders were shooting at them as well. The five Zerglings were shredded into pieces by the rifles. Not one of the Zerglings even got the chance to hit one of the eight marines that were forming team Blue. The apprentice marines high-fived, congratulating themselves on their first victory.

Rodger didn't share the excitement, however. His kill count indicated zero. Nervously, he called to Kurt:

"How many did you get?"

Kurt smiled and replied:

"I nailed three of the lil' suckers!"

Rodger shook his head timidly. Kurt had gotten three out of five Zerglings, and he had none. The field exam was worth 55 of the final note, and he needed at least one kill to pass this exam. While team Blue waited for more Zerglings, team Red and team Green were fighting. It seemed like the eastern pass was the one the Zerglings used the least. This exasperated Rodger, for he longed for his much needed kill. Suddenly, the gunshots had stopped, everywhere. Rodger looked behind his shoulder just for a second. Had Captain Aureus shut off the psi-emitter already? He sighed of relief when he noticed the psi-emitter's screens were still turning.

All of a sudden, the ground started to shake under team Blue's feet. None of the students knew what was happening. Rodger suddenly understood what was going on. A stampede of Zerglings was making its way through the eastern pass. He found his calculations to be correct when he spotted nearly twenty Zerglings running towards the small barricade of marines.

Three of the marines in team Blue ran away pusillanimously. Before anyone could call these marines cowards, the remaining marines of the Blue began shooting at the Zerglings. Four of the Hell dogs were killed and one found itself impossible to move, missing a leg. Nevertheless, the Zerglings got close enough to begin clawing at the marines, and Rodger could clearly see the bloodthirsty drool dropping from each of these creatures' mouths. The soldiers were hitting the small Zerg creatures with everything they had, but the bullets of their Gauss rifles seemed to have difficulties penetrating the reinforced hides of the Zergling's scaly skin. Kurt shot another one dead by getting it in the rib cage, making a clean hole into one of its lungs. The beasts began flailing their long claws viciously at the Blues. A marine was pushed to the ground by the tremendous force of a Zergling's attack. It wasn't long before three of the Zerg creatures had jumped upon the fallen marine and began biting the Plexiglas visor of his helmet. After a long biting session, one of the Hell dogs broke the visor and its atrocious maw made its way to the desperate marine's neck. The unfortunate man closed his eyes at the agonizing pain. He would never open them again.

The rest of team Blue had of course made an effort to help their comrade, but they had only succeeded into slaying one of the foul beasts. Rodger shot left and right, trying to cease the blows of claws hitting him left and right. A Zergling jumped directly at Rodger, hoping to make him fall as well. As it was about to collide into the marine, Rod placed a bullet into its head. The young man had his much needed kill, but he was not sure if he would survive the assault. He shot left and right, not noticing how many of the creatures he was killing. Another marine in team Blue passed into death as two Zerglings bit him on both sides of the back simultaneously. To Rodger's relief, he noticed half of team Green and half of team Red had come to help them.

Soon, only a few of the monsters remained. In fact, the few Zerglings that remained retreated. Kurt Belek chased after them and killed another. Rodger was amazed by Kurt's field performance, for he had always done badly on studying the Zerg. The eastern pass was secured. The marines listened and enjoyed the silence, although wordlessly mourning their companions who had fallen during this unexpected Zergling rush. Rodger turned back and saw the Psi-Emitter was again in the hand of Ray, deactivated. The marine had survived but he had never seen death from so close. The captain called everyone back to the dropship, the transport that had taken them there. As the soldiers were entering the ship, their leader looked back at the valley. Captain Ray's eyes widened and he dropped his weapon at a most unpleasant sight: swarms of Hydralisks were invading the valley.

Hydralisks were much larger than Zerglings and did not fight in the same fashion. These larger Zerg launched volleys of penetrating spines, much deadlier than a Zergling's claws, thus were more fatal and could attack from a distance. The Hydralisks resembled Zerglings in appearance a bit, most especially in the face, having the same long ruff in the back of the head. However, Hydralisks had no legs and had the lower body of a snake, but had two long arms, with no hands, with a long sickle ending each arm much like a sword instead. This larger Zerg strain used these arms to drag itself with more speed or to stab anyone insane enough to come close to it. A Hydralisk's maw was larger and more fearsome than a Zergling, but Hydralisks did not often hunt simply by eating their prey.

As these fearsome fiends entered the valley using the northern pass as well as the western pass, Ray Aureus counted them quickly while ordering the dropship pilot to take off. The Captain's jaw dropped; he counted almost one hundred of the evil beings. Quickly he turned around and entered the transport. The door closed and the dropship left the valley. A few of the Hydralisks fired a volley of their deadly spines at the dropship, but luckily, the spines did not damage any of the ship's important systems. Inside, the marines looked at their guns to see their kill count. None of the soldiers left the valley without at least a kill. Rodger observed his comrades. They all seemed happy with their results. He smiled, for he had developed friendship with most of these men. However, with all the emotions and worries Rodger faced in the valley, he forgot to check his own kill count. He looked at the red screen on his Gauss rifle.

"Oh WOW!!!"

All of the marines in the dropship looked at Rodger awkwardly. Josart Lamont, one of Rod's friends who were part of team Green, looked at him and asked: "What is it, Rod?"

The cheerful marine smiled happily and replied:

"Oh, its nothing…"

The other marines then went back to discussing the battle of the valley. Rodger simply looked down at his kill count: seven.


	2. Graduation of truth

Chapter two: Graduation of truth

Captain Ray Aureus put on his military uniform in front of his mirror. Of course, he would not wear his encounter armour to the graduation of his students. As he tightened his leather gloves around his hands, he could not help but to wonder where those Hydralisks did come from. Aureus had given this exam over ten times, but Hydralisks had never made an appearance in the valley. Zerglings never united to create such a formidable assault from the east either. Ray was suspecting that something, or someone, was giving the Zerg new instincts…new intelligence.

This tormented Ray, for Captain Zeffius, another leader of the Academy, was going to give an exam in the same valley in a week. Would the Hydralisk nest in the area too? Would they attack the unsuspecting students if the exam took place? Ray clasped his trench coat nervously at that thought.

Quickly he set his war medals on his chemise and walked out of the Captain's Quarters at the Command Center. The Command Center was where all the troops and workers would assemble at the end of the day, unless there was a crisis. If that were the case, there would be night watch. Of course, there were proximity sensors all around the base. Any movement detected by an unauthorized vehicle or unknown hypodermis would sound an alarm in the command center and all would man their posts in the blink of an eye. Ray walked quickly through the great structure quickly in direction of the Center's gym; where each marine would receive his diploma. The good Captain was in time as always and when he entered, the students were already in the gym and gave him a standing ovation.

Aureus, touched by his squad's affection, moved to the microphone where he would begin his speech. In the gym, decorated by balloons for the graduation, a young marine with short but messy chestnut hair whistled with all the air he had in his lungs to cheer on his teacher and Captain. Ray chuckled at the sight. Rodger Hertubiz. He had been a very good student and was proud to give him his diploma and welcome him into the Kel-Morian combine.

The Captain of these cheerful men gently tapped the microphone to verify if it was functional. Getting a long, screechy beep for an answer, Ray began his speech after hiding a small grin, mocking the imperfection of the microphone.  
"New recruits of the Kel-Morian combine, I am honoured to declare that no one has failed. Everyone has succeeded on the field exam and written exam…"

Before the Captain could continue, the room erupted with cheers and acclamations. Kurt and Josart jumped off their chairs and waved their arms in the air. Ray tried to share the excitement his former students were showing, but he couldn't. It was part of the graduation to tell the new marines the origin of Moria. True soldiers should be able to know the truth about their own home world.  
"Before I give you your diplomas, gentlemen, I must tell you a true story. Moria, home, as you know it… isn't mankind's genuine home world."

A gasp of surprise and awe filled the gym when those words left Ray's mouth.  
"Moria is in fact but a colony. Our home was part of a project named "M2C" Which stands for "Mankind's Second Chance". The first planet ever inhabited by humans, the blue planet known as Earth, several hundreds of millions of light years away, was destroying its Ozone layer. Scientists noticed that the planet was over populated as well; as such these scientists took 12 000 people at random and loaded them on four ships: the Nagglafar, the Argo, the Sarengo, and the Reagan.

"These enormous transports were launched into outer space to find another suitable system were mankind could establish themselves. The navigation systems of these ships found this galaxy: the Koprulu sector. Apparently, the Sarengo crash-landed so terribly that it suffered core system failures. The three thousand people on board were killed. We, aboard the Argo, have landed safely on the planet Moria, rich planet of resources. The Sarengo, if it made it safely, would be with the Reagan on the planet Umoja.

"The people of the Reagan, like us, lost all data to the ship's computers. We were left to restart a new life in our new worlds. However, ten years ago, when we developed space-travel, we met other humans in the Koprulu sector. We met the people of Umoja, and also the people of Tarsonis, who were aboard the Nagglafar.

"The Tarsonians did not lose data and knew what had happened. It was the Tarsonians who told us Morians about Earth, and the journey of the transport ships. Now it is my duty to tell all graduates the truth about our arrival to the Koprulu sector."

The marines in the room remained silent, to ponder these thoughts. The ceremony afterwards seemed quiet, for each man was troubled by this story. Every marine obtained his diploma and bid farewell to his Captain with a military salute. After they had graduated at the Academy, these men would be transferred to the Command Center's Private Quarters. When Rodger arrived to his quarters, he was pleased to see that it was much bigger than his dorm at the Academy, but was too confused to show any excitement or joy.

He slid his Gauss Rifle under his bed as instructed and entered it, willing to sleep. It was not as easy as he thought, however, for the new member of the Kel-Morian combine was troubled by one thing: the Sarengo. Three thousand people had died on that unfortunate crash. If the Argo had suffered the same fate, Rod would not even be alive. The thought consumed his mind for a long time until finally sleep got the best of him.

He was lying on the ground, not a feeling in his entire body, yet his eyes remained open. The tendrils of the colony defending the creature had impaled him three times through the stomach. As he was passing into to the abyss that was death, he heard a hollow, wicked voice that made his transitory to the next life even more corrupted. He wished he were dead when he heard the word.

T'rgashi…

Rodger awakened in horror. His brow was wet as if he had been standing in the rain for half an hour. The terrorizing voice he had heard in his dream seriously gave him goosebumps. What, or who, is T'rgashi? The twenty-one year old soldier had no idea, and used his blankets to wipe the sweat off his forehead. His messy brown hair met his pillow once again, and the green eyes closed, hoping to get more sleep. Rodger wasn't sure if he would have a big day tomorrow, however, he knew he needed his sleep while he still could, for in time of war, he would sleep very little. Ten seconds later, the young man was sleeping soundly.

Unfortunately for Rodger, a strange vision troubled his slumber. An eye, with several tendons going into it and red liquid hovering about it looked at Rodger. It had a dreadful blank stare that made the sleeping man's heart race. Abruptly, a fire was lit in the pupil of the great eye, and the same formidable voice was heard.

"T'rgashi…. T'rgashi… Greetings, Rodger Hertubiz of the Kel-Morian combine. I am T'rgashi. I have a feeling we'll meet soon enough…"

The eye erupted into a malevolent laugh that forced the marine out of his sleep. Not only did he awaken, but he also shrieked and fell from his bed. The loud thud woke up Josart, who was rooming in a quarters near Rodger's. Jo opened the door quickly and yelled:

"ROD!! IT'S TWO IN THE MORNING, NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO DO YOUR BLOODY WORK OUT!!"

Josart stopped speaking immediately and started squinting, for his comrade was sleeping in his underwear.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE!! YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE TO SLEEP IN UNIFORM!!"

Rodger immediately put on a pair of pants, growling. Josart could be a pain when he was not happy.

"Sorry, Jo… did I wake you up?"

"No, actually, replied Josart. Didn't you hear the alarm? There's an emergency. All Privates, Corporals, Sergeants, and Captains are called to the gym."

As he put on a shirt, Rod cursed himself silently. It was a bad sign if he was going to sleep through each time there was an emergency. He would be expelled from the combine in no time at all if that habit remained. On the other hand, he had to worry about something of greater importance at the moment. There was an alert, and he was not sure what it was for, but he had to report. As such, he picked up his Gauss Rifle from its hiding place and ran alongside his friend towards the gym were everyone was to be.

When they arrived, it was chaotic. Several marines were running about, others were steadily standing, waiting for the responsible to speak. Rod and Jo found themselves standing next to a large body with enormously broad shoulders and flowing black hair that was standing up silently.

"Kurt?" asked Josart.

The giant turned to face the questioner and smiled. It was indeed Kurt Belek. A strong voice then shouted:

"SILEEEEENNNNNNNNNCEEEEEEEEE!!!"

All soldiers who were running stopped their sprints at the same time. A man with a dark moustache stepped to the microphone and said:

"Members of the 28th northern base of the Kel-Morian combine, we have a problem."

Rodger instantly recognized the immensely decorated man. He was a Commodore, and most likely the ruler of the base.

"The Zerg forces, using a small offensive, knocked out our communications to the 27th command center, center of the small base controlling the resources only a good sixty kilometres away from our own command center. These damned creatures have probably killed every single unit of that entire area."

"This young man," the Commodore said, pointing at a young Private, "has escaped and will give us details of the attack."

The Private, rubbing his bald head with his hand, stood forward and said:

"The Zerg came upon us around six in the afternoon while everyone was relaxing. They destroyed each of our resource collectors and began attacking our barracks. We sounded the alarm and began retaliating, but we were outnumbered. Since I was probably the last marine standing, I fled to your position. I looked back and counted perhaps a dozen Hydralisks and six Zerglings. Most of the hellhounds were cut down when we defended ourselves. I ran as quickly as possible to get to you, 28, but on foot, I couldn't go any faster."

The Commodore took control over the microphone and said:

"The main problem is that we never saw this Brood before. Its individuals had pink and black stripes around their eyes and on their hands and feet."

The Commodore used the word "Brood". The soldiers of the entire Koprulu sector used the term "Brood" to separate the different colour of Zerg warriors. Each Brood was named after an ancient creature of Greek or Roman mythology. The largest brood known to date was the Tiamat brood, and its individuals' skin was more in a reddish tone than brown. Yet, never was a brood with black and pink stripes around their eyes on their hands and feet had been reported. As such, it was up with the northern portion of the Kel-Morian combine to name it.

"We shall name them: The Talos Brood. The other Command Centers will be alerted as well," said the Commodore. "We shall try to secure what is left of 27, and we might be able to build another Command Center to continue to harvest the natural resources of the area."

Rodger was anxious. He would most likely have to fight the next day, and he had only completed his training only the day before. Would he be ready to face a larger foe? He awaited the Commodore's orders. Perhaps he wouldn't have to kill more Zerg forces.

"Tomorrow, we will bury the Talos. Command Center 28 will send two dropships full of marines into the fray and will eliminate the Zerg presence."

At those words, Rod's previous leader, Captain Aureus, stood up and said:

"Very well. May I suggest that my squad attacks these Zerg tomorrow at noon? They won't be expecting us."

The Commodore agreed with the Captain's decision, to Rodger's surprise. That confirmed it. Again, the Gauss rifle that lied in his hands would end lives. 


	3. The onslaught

Chapter three: The onslaught

The next day, Rodger Hertubiz found himself again in the transport with Kurt and Josart near him.

"Hey, maybe them Hydralisks will be more of a challenge then those Zerglings!" Kurt exclaimed energetically.

"I was the first one to kill a Zergling in team Green!" continued Josart.

Rodger, silent, was not really sure if he wanted to join in this conversation. Of course, Rod had proven himself in battle, having slaughtered seven of the hellhounds, but Hydralisks were indeed more powerful than Zerglings according to research and several battle videos Rodger had watched at the Academy. Besides, this "Talos Brood" had managed aggressive manoeuvres upon a fully guarded Command Center. They would not easily be eradicated. Orders were orders however, and Rodger's purpose was to be a marine, a fighter, a mobile infantry of the Kel-Morian combine, and he would prove himself in battle.

The second transport, flying only a few meters away from the one carrying Rodger and his friends, was also loaded with marines. Leading the two dropships was a wraith. Wraiths were small spaceships that were meant for dogfights. The fighter had missile launchers on each wing and a belly mounted burst laser cannon. Rod's former instructor, Captain Ray Aureus, piloted the wraith. Soon, the wraith had several enemy units on its radar. Immediately, Aureus picked up his radio and sent a message to the dropships:

"Indeed, there are quite a few Hydralisks. I'll go distract them, while you make a safe landing and unload the troops. We outnumber them by far, but this will still be a heated battle."

The fighter jet increased its speed and flew low towards the unsuspecting Zerg troops, located with the rubble of base 27 atop a small hill. The wraith's laser cannon went into action as it fired several beams of red light. A Hydralisk was vaporized by its power, but its kindred began launching their deadly spines at the wraith. Luckily for Ray, the accuracy of the Hydraliks was not great and only a few green spikes hit his jet.

While the creatures' eyes scanned the skies nervously for the wraith, the two dropships managed to land on the hill and the marines of the Kel-Morian combine rushed into the fray, unleashing the fury of their Gauss rifles. Josart, Kurt and Rodger were always together, firing at the large creatures from a distance and back-pedalling whenever one would approach. Some soldiers were not as wise, though, and when the sturdy Hydralisks approached them, they kept on shooting while holding their ground. The marines who used that tactic found themselves pinned to the floor, with a five-foot blade going through them and into the soil.

The large creatures, while under fire, remained calm and fired their spines at the enemy. The Kel-Morian troops took cover to avoid being pierced. Rodger and his two companions were still together, shooting left and right. Three Hydralisks had already fallen to the marines, turned into a pile of brown, pink and black gore. The wraith returned, and, covered by the soldiers' fire, was able to vaporize another one of the larger Zerg beasts. However, the troops were not entirely unscathed. As Rodger, his comrades, and a few other marines were hiding behind a pile of boulders, one of the soldiers looked over to see if he had killed an enemy. His face met a Hydralisk's. He had exactly half a second to behold the incredible grace and power of the alien body before a few needle spines sank deep into his skull, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

As the body of the slain marine fell to the ground, Rodger, Kurt and Josart rose from behind the boulders and pumped bullets into the beast's head. The Hydralisk put its enormous arms upon its head, trying to halt the flow of its own blood, but then blacked out and passed into death. Seven Hydralisks remained alive, and three of them were looking for the wraith while the other four were preparing to charge at the marine's hideout. As for the Zerglings, they were killed at the beginning of the attack, except for one, who remained with the Hydralisks who were focussing on the marines who took cover. The only Zergling that was still alive looked at the largest Hydralisk of the group, most likely the leader. The leader of the Zerg growled and roared several times.

Kurt, from behind the boulders, overheard them.

"I can't believe it!" the giant said. "He's giving the Zergling orders!"

"That's an unusual behaviour for a Zerg. Zerg forces are known for their stupidity and boldness," added Rodger.

The three friends cut the chatter as the small monster rushed and collided with the boulder wall. At first, the men of the Kel-Morian combine were not sure of its intentions, but when a fissure appeared into the boulder wall, the Zergling's will became quite clear. Before the brave soldiers could react, the wall was shattered. The Hydralisks began to release their lethal projectiles once again at the unprotected marines. There was nowhere the humans could hide. Having nowhere to take cover, they ran, with the four great abominations behind them. The leader of the Hydralisks shot a spine at his fleeing foes. The shot caught Josart in the right shoulder, and he cried in pain as he fell to the ground, with the mighty spike going deep into his armour and skin. Kurt and Rodger were not ready to abandon their friend to the hands of such evil creatures. In no time at all, they were at his side.

"Rodger, take Josart and run as fast as you can! I'll distract them for as long as I can!"

Rod nodded silently, and lifted up Josart like a fireman would and carried him away. Kurt Belek, his heart racing, braced himself. The oncoming Hydralisks would be there soon. As planned, the four brutes approached, and were surprised to see one marine waiting for them as the brunt of their numbers was leaving. In an agile fashion, the Gauss rifle exploded into action. Making sure he was hitting each of the Hydralisks, Kurt kept his eyes open for the spines that would soon spear him if he were not quick enough.

Three of the Talos warriors attacked Kurt with their projectiles. By pure luck, the giant marine was capable of diving to the side, avoiding the deadly barrage of needle spines while continuing to fire with his own weapon. As he got up, one of the Hydralisks got near Kurt and tried to stab him with its long blades. The talented marine was the quicker, as he rolled back onto the ground, avoiding the piercing the monster's deadly blades would bring him. The Zerg combatant got frantic. It flailed its natural swords again and again, trying to kill its annoying enemy, but the human was rolling on the soil, evading. Eventually, the Hydralisk got tired of waving its arms wildly and brought its mouth near the marine, attempting to cause a mortal bite, but as its maw opened, Kurt stuck his Gauss Rifle in it and pulled the trigger. The maniacal monster fell and never got up.

The black haired marine was glad of his victory, but was discouraged and ready to face his fate as he noticed the other Hydralisks got near him as well, ready to cut him into pieces. Kurt closed his eyes, but he felt nothing. He didn't feel any different. The cold breeze of the wind was still gently touching his face. He still felt the grass under his heavy boots. He still heard himself breathing. When he opened his eyes, curious, the Hydralisks were gone, yet he heard the sound of their needles being fired into the air, as well as gunshots. Quickly, he understood: the marines who had run had returned to help him.

He turned around towards where the war sounds were heard and ran blindly. When he got over the small hill where the battle was fought, he saw three large corpses and Josart, towering over one of them. Kurt grinned at the sight. He was glad to see a familiar face when Rodger stepped forward and told him the Hydralisks were too outnumbered and bewildered to show resistance. The marines cheered and congratulated themselves, most specifically Kurt, for the extraordinary skirmish that just took place. The forces of Command Center 28 didn't think they could be any happier for themselves… until a damaged fighter jet flew above them in a loop. All the soldiers roared in glee; their leader had defeated the three other Hydralisks who meant to destroy him.

Quickly, Ray Aureus improvised a vertical landing and got out of his wraith.

"Great work, boys! Now that we have dealt with the fiends, we can return to 28, bring back a Space Construction Vehicle and rebuild 27."

In very little time, the transports were once again loaded with marines and lead by the wraith, on their way back to where they came from. Rodger, inside one of the dropships, helped Josart with his injured shoulder. The hardest part was done, for the spike was removed from Jo's shoulder.

"Awwww… thanks Rod… owww…" moaned the injured man.

Hertubiz smiled at his friend, but then noticed that Josart was not pleased at all. In fact, all of the marines in the dropship gasped. Rod looked at what all the marines where hypnotized by. He screamed.

From outside the transport ship's window, he saw the most terrifying sight he had ever seen. His home, where he had learned so much, the Academy, as well as the rest of his beloved base… was aflame. The ground was red from the blood; heavy smoke covered the skies as Command Center 28 was burning. All around the broken buildings and corpses, there were Hydralisks. Dozens and dozens of Hydralisks. There was not one survivor. The onslaught appeared to be quick and unexpected. The horrified Kel-Morian troops looked at their base, and then Kurt broke the silence by shouting:

"THE BASTARDS!!! LAND, DROPSHIP!! THOSE GUYS ARE GOING DOWN!!!"

A few other marines got up and tried to calm Belek. Rodger, fighting back several tears, ran to the dropship pilot and asked him what was going to happen. The pilot barely heard the tear-eyed man, for he was in a series of intense dialogue with the infuriated Captain Aureus. Rodger Hertubiz stopped talking immediately and listened to their conversation. He thought he heard something about retreating to a nearby Command Center, most likely 29 or 30.

"Go tell the troops we're setting a course for Command Center 29, please" the pilot demanded.

Rod was about to yell the news out loud so his companions could hear, but then the radio still in communication with Ray began screaming:

"Hold! We might have a major problem! We're picking up a large fleet of Kel-Morian dropships heading this way! They are sending us transmissions. I'll put you through."

While the radio was adjusting for the oncoming communications, Rodger looked out the window. He witnessed indeed a flock of dropships, escorted by wraiths. To his dread, he noticed that several of the transports were severely damaged. Before he could quote on this, the transmission was sent.

"This is Commodore Barnes, talking for the Command Centers 1 to 25, from the North. Our bases were all overrun by an indescribable amount of Hydralisks, all bearing the colours of the Talos Brood. We have no choice… we have to pull back to the Southern provinces of Moria so we can warn them of the new devastating Brood. I see that the other Command Centers have most unfortunately fallen as well. I am certain that when we will reach the south, we will be able to counter-strike and defeat the Talos… but for now, we have nowhere else to go."

Under the Commodore's suggestions, the immense fleet began its long way across the sea, towards the south. When news of defeat reached the other marines that were in the raid, many of them fell into despair, mourning their homes, as well as their comrades who had stayed behind. Others just stared blankly out of the windows were the columns of smoke would soon be out of sight.

Rodger returned among them slowly, fell to his knees and gazed at the iron floor. His life would be changed forever. His home was destroyed. Most of his superiors were dead. His parents were probably deceased too. The Talos roamed freely in the land he had trained to make his dream of becoming a marine come true.

There was only one thought left for Rod to hold on to. The Talos Brood will pay. Revenge was now the only path Rodger followed.


	4. The medic

Chapter four: The Medic

She sighed deeply. Her job was the worst one imaginable. She had to sit there, in the corner of a bar, waiting for soldiers to get incredibly drunk so she could heal them. There were medics who healed soldiers injured in battle, there were others who would remove strange alien toxins from armoured vehicles, and some who would even nurse back to health men injured on the field of battle as they were right behind them. How she wished she could be one of those, who saw the world and gentle marines, instead of this tiny bar, a prison to her, and had to put up with idiotic soldiers who would throw up on her.

In fact, at her feet, there was a big, fat man who had already had his neuro-stim treatments and was snoring loudly. Feodora Martexy looked at her watch impatiently, longing to go home to her quarters were she could get some much-needed rest. Looking at the person at her feet, she growled. When she volunteered to be a medic for the Kel-Morian combine, Feodora never expected a job like this. The only reason she stayed with the combine was because she wanted to help people in need. The white visor of her encounter suit, which was much similar to a marine's lifted up to reveal her elegant visage. She had pale skin, thin lips, a bright smile and a unique twinkle of hope that lightened every now and then in her appealing emerald eyes. She flipped her flowing golden hair over her shoulder. Not only was the bar tiny, but also the heat that reigned in it was near unbearable.

Again, Feodora heaved a sigh at the inaction of her life. She was only nineteen, but if her entire medic career was to be like this, she knew she would not stay in the combine for very long. Just as she thought things could not be any worse, the man at her feet gagged and barfed on her boots. Feodora shook her head in frustration and disgust. She knew it would get worse as she spotted another fat fellow drinking down a bottle of Tarsonian Bourbon. The medic hid her face in her hands as the door of the bar opened again. It would be more soldiers willing to get drunk, she presumed.

But it was not. The three men who had entered the tavern would forever bend the line of her life.

There were three of them, not alike at all in appearance; all in encounter suits bearing the symbol of the Kel-Morian combine. The shortest one had dyed his hair to a light green, and had innocent brown eyes. Numerous freckles decorated his face like stars light up the calm night. He walked with his shoulder numbed, most likely a wound from combat.

The second one was very handsome, having immensely broad shoulders, long dark hair and a pair of sensitive blue eyes. His face showed such gravity that Feodora could not even start to think about meeting him. His frown made his lovely eyes seem very evil.

The third marine was averagely tall, and wasn't as physically impressive as his dark-haired friend. His short, disordered brown hair dropped over his eyes, for he was walking head low. Something seemed to bother him within. The three men sat at the counter, and the shortest one ordered three Coronair whiskies. The liquor vanished in each marine's throat quickly, and the green-haired man ordered three more. The first-class medic knew that soon these three strangers would soon lose their senses and fall unconscious.

Although she was assigned to remain in her corner until someone was seriously intoxicated, Feodora felt very different that night. She knew that she might be able to prevent these soldiers from clouding their minds with alcohol. So she let the man at her feet sleep, walked around him, and soon was near the newcomers. Feodora had taken the precaution of lowering her visor again, though, for some marines had the bad habit of being energized by her appearance. She cleared her throat and tapped the tallest man on the shoulder and said:

"You know, I'm a first-class medic and I should warn you that too much alcohol can affect your vision of certain things…"

The freckled man looked at her wickedly and answered:

"Ohhhhhh… a MEDIC!!! So the southern forces have MEDICS!! If we had medics during the slaughter, we might still be in our home! Get lost, medic!"

The giant nodded and continued:

"Listen, we're going through tough times. You'd best stay away from us. Let us enjoy our booze, for that's the only thing we can enjoy around here, in these southernies."

Feodora exhaled noisily and returned to her corner. Strangers were no better than the men she had to take care of every day, apparently. She sat on her "favourite" chair, as usual, gazing at the sleeping drunk on the floor. She felt a large hand grasp the shoulder of her encounter suit gently. She looked up and saw the man who hadn't spoken during the short time she was among the strangers. That's when she noticed his dark green eyes. The mysterious marine spoke in a deep, antagonistic voice:

"Tough night, huh…"

Feodora nodded with her head without answering, pointing at the muck on her shoe as well as the drunken man.

"Yep… I know how you feel. We lost everything we ever loved and cared for today."

Feodora felt profoundly moved just by listening to the green-eyed man's voice. Shyly, Feodora asked:

"I've never seen you or your friends around here before… where are you from?"

"I don't want to talk about it…"

Feodora then continued their discussion with an old saying her father had told her several times:

"If you keep it inside all to yourself, you won't be able to feel any better."

The man frowned, but couldn't defy the logic. He had no choice but to tell her the tale.

"We came from the north. The north of Moria. That's where we were marines of the Kel-Morian combine. Recently, a new Brood of Zerg had emerged and it…" he stopped and lowered his head. He took a deep breath and finished his explanation. "…It eradicated each and every one of our Command Centers. We had no choice but to retreat to the south of Moria, in hope of gaining support so we could reclaim our land… our leaders will be meeting with the south's most important ministers soon, as well as the Emperor himself..."

Feodora looked into the man's eyes and knew if he said anything else, he would explode, either into anger or tears.

"That's very heartbreaking… you said your Command Centers were destroyed. What of your cities? Your civilian cities? Are they…?"

"Razed." mumbled the stranger.

Even if she was not the victim, the medic felt a tear run down her cheek.

"Didn't your medics help you?"

The unknown marine crossed his arms and looked away.

"We don't have medics. Didn't you hear Josart?"

Feodora looked down, sorrowfully, realising the uselessness of her question. She looked at the man and whispered:

"What is your name?"

The man's gentle green gaze was still looking away when she heard the reply.

"Rodger Hertubiz. Marine of the northern portion of the Kel-Morian combine."

"I'm Feodora Martexy. A medic of the Kel-Morian combine."

Her delicate hand met Rodger's comparatively colossal palm. A facial expression that Feodora hadn't seen yet manifested itself upon the marine's face: a smile. Then she jumped, startled, when two loud thuds were heard. The two other strangers had fallen from their chairs. Rod ran towards them, laughing thoroughly. He put his hand on Josart's forehead, looked at the medic, and said:

"They're completely wasted. They've taken quite a few Coronairs. A few too many, ha ha ha! Think you could do something to help them, first class medic?"

Feodora opened her backpack, and took out one of her three specially designed first aid kits. One was for flesh wounds, another for burns, and the last for miscellaneous. That's the one the medic withdrew. She revealed a weird looking needle filled with grey ooze. She stung Kurt, then Josart.

"It's neuro-stim treatment. They won't wake up with a headache or any other symptoms of pain. In other words, it's anti-hangover fluids."

Rodger thanked Feodora and asked her if he could offer her a drink. Feodora accepted. The bartender arrived with two glasses of champagne and handed them out to the new friends. Rodger then smiled amusingly and commented:

"You won't be able to drink this stuff with your visor lowered, unless you're very talented."

The young woman agreed, and removed her visor. Rod then saw how beautiful she was, and looked away, blushing. He even slapped himself in the face, which made Feodora giggle childishly. She had a melodious, high-pitched laugh, which was very pleasant to the ear. The northern soldier looked upon the southern girl again, and they gently hit their glasses together. The rest of the night passed very quickly, as Feodora and Rodger exchanged their stories of the past and present thoughts. Rod told his new friend about his dream of becoming a marine to see the world and change it. Feodora, in response, told him how much she cared for other people's health and wished to save as many lives as she could.

Finally, the bartender announced the tavern would close soon, and they both left the bar, dragging Rodger's drunken friends. As Feodora waved goodbye to the marine who actually made her night easy going, she noticed how much overtime she had done and went to her quarters.


	5. United combine

Chapter five: United Combine

A few weeks later, a meeting was held at night in the largest, most important structure of all Moria: the Argo, the ship that had brought mankind to the rich planet. The converted spacecraft was transformed into a parliament building. The wings of the immense ship were still untouched; save they sank deep into the ground and served as a support. As for the immense room were men and women alike were in cryosleep for so many long years, it had been modified to be the most important meeting room.

That day, many of Moria's politicians were gathered. Most importantly, there was Arcturus Mengsk, from Korhal. After a bloody feud between Umoja, Tarsonis and Korhal, Tarsonis had bombarded the planet of Korhal with Apocalypse class nuclear missiles. Arcturus Mengsk openly attacked the confederacy of Tarsonis with a rag-tag army and sneaky tactics, and with the aid of the Umojan Protectorate, managed to take over the throne. The confederacy was no more, and Korhal was officially labelled the throne world of the Koprulu sector.

Korhal's surface was no longer affected by the radiation caused by the nuclear strikes, but was no more than a smouldering desert. Alongside Arcturus was General Edmund Duke, who once was a great confederate general, but had switched sides after being rescued from the Zerg by Arcturus' forces. The old General had been at this high rank for fifteen years, and was loyal to Emperor Mengsk. Arcturus stood up, scratched his black beard and whispered:

"You may speak, Ray Aureus of the northern division of the Kel-Morian combine."

Captain Ray Aureus stood up and cleared his throat like he always did before giving a speech.

"Fellow members of the Council, we are here gathered because a new adversary has appeared. This new enemy is unlike any we have ever known. A simple Zerg Brood. This Brood isn't all that simple, though; it overran all bases situated in the north of Moria, as well as the cities."

All politicians in the room began discussing this fact with their neighbour. The Captain didn't slow down in his speech.

"It manifested its superior intelligence when some of its warriors appeared in a valley usually only frequented by the Grendel Brood. Then, with several hit and run tactics, it knocked out one of our Command Centers, and while we were busy annihilating the invaders, more forces came and razed each and every one of our military installations. We, of the north, named it the Talos Brood. The origin of this new Brood is unknown, as well as its purpose. But where it came from is the largest mystery. Its irresistible power forced our northern troops to retreat here, in the southern regions of Moria. Council, I demand, I request, I call for all worlds to come and aid the survivors of the north and scour the Talos from Moria."

The Emperor rose from his seat at these words.

"Denied! The entire Koprulu sector will not fight upon the desolate plains of Moria. However, the southern regions of Moria will assist you. Councillor Jordans, do you agree?"

The councillor for the south nodded.

"Then it is settled," continued Mengsk. "Moria will wage war on the Talos as soon as it feels ready. As Emperor, I allow the use of tactical nukes and any other punishment you can cast upon these Zerg."

The Council was dismissed. Emperor Mengsk decided to remain on Moria until the situation eased up a bit. Of course, his faithful Duke wouldn't be far. The other politicians from other worlds, such as Umoja, returned to their respective planets. Arcturus and Duke went to the mansion that was assigned to them, and waited. Duke would help with the preparation of the armies, but all Arcturus could do was wait.

Feodora lay dead at his feet. He cried loudly as tears poured down his bloodied face. How he wished she were still alive so she could heal him! How he wished he could still hear her heart beat against his! Sadly, her heart stopped beating quite a while ago. He placed his hand in her deep wounds caused by the murderous tendrils of the sunken colony.

Everything got blurry, his heart jumped in his chest. Suddenly, a great eye appeared before him, and a malevolent laugh was heard, along with menacing words:

"You will be next, Hertubiz. You too, will bow before T'rgashi."

Rodger awakened, drenched in sweat.

"What's wrong?" asked Kurt, sleeping on the ground.

When the northern forces arrived in the south, there was a lack of room in the marine quarters. As such, the newcomers had to share rooms in groups of two or three. Persistent, Kurt asked Rodger what was the problem again. Nervously, the troubled male replied:

"Uh, I've had a bad dream… a really bad dream…"

Josart, who was sleeping on a couch, was also awakened by Rod's sudden rise from his bed.

"Mwaaaaaaaaah…" yawned Josart. "Who needs a wake-up alarm when Rodger Hertupiss is around?"

While Jo was slowly sitting down on his improvised bed, Kurt stood up and asked:

"What was your ghastly dream all about?"

Rodger described his dream to his friends. At the end of his speech, the tallest of the three chuckled and added:

"That Feodora again? Isn't it bad enough that you go talk to her at the tavern every single night? Seeing her every day isn't good enough for ya yet? You have to see her in your dreams, too?"

"Somebody's obsessed!" continued Jo.

Rod shrugged; he did not know how to reply to such accusations. He tried the most shameful trick in the book of remarks, and changed the subject:

"Um, right… anybody hear about the Kel-Morian combine's plans to deal with the Talos?"

Josart and Kurt began laughing and muttered vowels, and the dark haired man shrugged his shoulders, to show his friend he did not know. Rodger then announced to his friends he was going out for a walk, for the day was young, and he had no intention to return to sleep. The two friends nodded, but when Rod left the quarters, he overheard their hysterical laughter. The sound made him smile. How immature his buddies were! A marine could not have a female friend nowadays, according to those two clowns.

He then went on with his walk, away from the military installation and towards the coast. The sky was decorated with pinkish clouds and the sea was orange; the sun was rising. Rodger observed the beauty of the sight. In his northern homeland, sunrises and sunsets never were as beautiful. For a moment he wished he could share the stunning scene with someone.

Rodger's never-fading smile turned into a mouth open wide of panic when two hands seized his shoulders from behind. He turned around lightning-fast, ready to strike his assailant. His facial expression returned to peace when he noticed it was only an emerald-eyed woman with long golden hair.

"Good morning, Rodger! Did I frighten you?" asked Feodora, with the charming twinkle in her eyes.

The man scratched his uncombed hair and replied with a grin:

"Not at all! Say, aren't you up a little early?"

Feodora did not reply. She walked towards the sea, looking over her shoulder with a little smile. Rod, confused, followed the angelic figure. The emerald eyes then met the dark green ones again, and Feodora answered:

"I always get up this early. Every morning I look at the sunrise. It's very soothing, and it makes me forget about the pestering events of night time… like, you know, men throwing up on your boots and stuff…"

Rodger chuckled at the memory of a few nights back.

"I can understand why you insist on seeing this sight every morning. It is spectacular."

Feodora nodded silently, looking at the ball of flame that was slowly getting higher in the sky. Timidly, she asked a bold question:

"So how is the north?"

Rodger looked at the young woman and knew he had nothing to lose by telling her.

"The north isn't as cold as lots of people think it is. In fact, we never get any snow, except in the mountains. It is very mountainous, with several hills and mountains towering above everything else. Valleys and plains are here and there. Our base, Command Center 28, was in a plain. We could easily handle any oppressor… that is, until the Talos made its swift and deadly appearance…"

The olive eyes closed for a few seconds, then they opened again.

"The north is my home, Feodora… I would do anything, anything at all, to get it back. When the combine comes to its senses, I will be in the first attack wave."

Feodora looked at Rodger. There was an unusually serious and grudging tone in his usually deep, calming voice. As soon as he spoke those sentences, she knew that one day, the combine would wage war on the Talos Brood and her newfound friend would instantly volunteer to be part of the assault. The young man quickly broke the silence again.

"Do you know anything about the combine's meeting? Have they decided what were Moria's orders are? I know that Emperor Mengsk made an appearance for this, but that's it…"

Feodora sighed genuinely. She was facing a very difficult decision. If she told him about what she knew, he would surely go to war. If she lied, eventually, Rodger would find out. Either way, their friendship could be broken forever. She finally said:

"The council decided that this was Moria's responsibility, but Mengsk ordered that the entire Kel-Morian combine would unite in order to destroy the common foe. The south's military technology is superior, and at this moment, Moria is experimenting with the newly invented "Siege tanks", as well as mechanical robot-walkers known as "Goliaths". When a wave of these prototypes will be complete, a volley of mini nuclear warheads will be launched at the Zerg coastal bases to cripple them so our dropships can make a landing and begin claiming the north. This entire chain of events will be ready in about… two months, I would say."

Rodger's reaction was one Feodora didn't expect. She heard the deep voice murmur:

"In two months, at last, I shall have my revenge."

The medic felt very grieved by those words. She really did not want the marine to get hurt, and most especially did not want him to die. But his thirst for vengeance seemed incontrovertible. She looked at the unmerciful frown that painted Rodger's visage; he was looking to the north, over the sea, she presumed. These months would be long for him. Suddenly, Rod turned to face the gorgeous girl again. He whispered something Feodora would of never anticipated.

"Come with us, Feodora. This will be your chance to ditch the unfriendly tavern and see the north of Moria. You'll be able to save lives, too, certainly."

The healer did not know what to answer. Before she even could speak again, a very tall and thin man approached them. Rodger turned around and a particularly large smile decorated his face as he militarily saluted the man.

"Captain Ray Aureus! What brings you here, my good instructor?"

The Captain saluted the man.

"Private Hertubiz. I am glad to see you have survived. May I speak with you please?"

Ray turned around and walked a few steps, giving his man a few seconds to dismiss his female friend. Rod knew it would be best if Feodora would be away, so he looked in her emerald eyes and spoke softly in her ear:

"That's my superior. He was my instructor at the Academy where I trained. I think he wants to discuss some important matters with me. You better get outta here, Feodora. I will see you tonight, though."

She understood the importance of this meeting and walked away after having said goodbye to the marine. When the long, golden hair was no longer in sight, Rodger slapped himself in the face again, not believing that such an attractive woman was at his side so often. He quickly turned red, for he noticed his Captain saw him smack himself.

"Do you enjoy self-induced pain?" asked Ray, confused.

"No, sir! I was just, uh, there was a mosquito on my cheek, sir!"

Captain Aureus shook his head dubiously; almost certain that was a lie. "Hertubiz, you have been trained as a marine, correct?"

"Yes, sir! Mobile infantry for the Kel-Morian combine, sir!"

Annoyed by the repeated mentioning of the word "sir", Ray continued.

"I know of your thoughts of revenge, private. Although you are but a rookie marine, having only fought one real battle, I talked with the Commodores and they agreed to put you in the battlefield when we will reclaim our home, as well as your teammates, Kurt Belek and Josart Lamont. However, because of the tanks and Goliaths that will be loaded in the dropships, we may not have enough room. As such, I have been ordered by General Edmund Duke to begin recruiting wraith pilots. Being on top of your class for the written exam, I have chosen you."

Rod was very honoured. A wraith pilot! He would see his native land from a wraith's cockpit!

"Thank you, sir!" was all Rodger could say about this meeting. The two men then walked towards the starports were the private would learn to fly the fighter.

Meanwhile, back at the marines' quarters, Josart and Kurt silently watched the news on their miniature television.

"Aw, this sucks!" exclaimed Jo. "Nothing but cricket on each channel! What kind of idiot watches cricket???"

Kurt looked at his smaller friend and glowered.

"I watch cricket. It's my favourite sport."

Josart, terrified, quickly changed faces, for if he did not…he knew the huge marine who had defeated a Hydralisk at close-quarters would crush him like a bug.

"Uh… yeah! Let's watch cricket! I love cricket!"

Kurt laughed out loud, incredulous of his pal's occasional stupidity. The blue-eyed marine turned off the television, solving the problem easily. He then got up, walked towards the tiny kitchen and asked:

"You want a beer?"

Josart agreed without question. The cold drink felt good as it came down their throats. That's when Josart declared:

"Hey, Kurt, remember when a few nights ago we went to that bar and got drunk over Coronairs? What did Rodger do? I know he carried us to these quarters at the end of the night, but while we were out cold, what happened?"

Kurt thinking the answer was quite obvious, retorted:

"It was that night where Rod met that Feodora chick. Remember? You even told her to buzz off."

Jo came up with an unhappy answer:

"Maybe I wouldn't have said that if she wasn't wearing her visor. But yesterday, when I saw her walking with Roddy-boy, hot damn! She's a babe!"

" I don't think she likes you, or I for that matter."

"A pity." Continued the short man.

"Well, you've only seen her face. That encounter suit we're all accustomed to wear conceals the rest of her body," Kurt reasoned. "Besides, we were indeed mean to her on the first day."

"Yeah, you're right… " Josart took a sip of his beer and didn't answer.

"She is SO going to follow Rodger into battle", he thought to himself.


	6. Overmind

**Chapter six: Overmind**

It was there. It towered over the thousands of broken and burnt cities. It was commanding all its minions to rampage through the fields of Aiur. With satisfaction, it lorded over all Broods. With passion, it assimilated other species into the swarm. With supremacy, it had made its awesome appearance on Aiur's surface to show its foe that the Zerg, albeit not the first born, was still the stronger. It looked upon the entire universe with its great eye.

It was the Overmind.

The Overmind had lived for several millennia. The prosperous Xel'Naga, a tribe of creatures of Godlike power, moving from planet to planet in their enormous world ships, had created it. The Xel'Naga, also known as "those who see beyond", were perfectionists to a fault. They would create creatures upon random worlds, watch them grow for a few millennia, but they were never satisfied with their creations. They considered the Zerg their only worthwhile conception.

Upon the barren world of Zerus, the Zerg were "born". A small insect-like creature appeared on Zerus' burning hot soil, but it wasn't the planet's fruit. It was the Xel'Naga who had created this creature. After a few centuries, the worms had developed the ability to burrow in the ground, as well into other creatures and feed off their organisms, slowly. Very slowly. The Xel'Naga became very alert, however, for the creatures the Zerg had fed off of were no longer the same: the Zerg had assimilated them. They had grown larger, more vicious, and their anger was nearly uncontrollable.

Thus the Xel'Naga decided to create some sort of "cradle" to control all the Zerg creatures. After a few centuries of hard work, the Overmind was born. Being several hundreds of meters in height and length, the enormous brain-like entity dictated control over all of the Zerg forces. In little time, the Overmind gave birth to "Cerebrates", technically overgrown versions of the original Zerg strain, and thus overgrown white worms. He gave each of his Cerebrates a function, such as "defend the Hive cluster" "Search for new creatures to assimilate" and "destroy all non-Zerg creatures". The largest Cerebrate was called Daggoth and dictated control over the Tiamat Brood, the largest of all. The Tiamat was the primary assault Brood, and bore the colour red.

Like the Overmind needed help from his Cerebrates to control each Brood, Cerebrates needed help from large, lumbering flying Zerg creatures, known as Overlords. Seeing how this new "system" was flourishing, the Xel'Naga became incredibly proud. The Overmind, however, became more than a cradle of control. Within a few short years, it developed personality and profound intelligence. The great eye soon realised it had assimilated each and every creature indigenous to Zerus into the Zerg swarm.

Disappointed, the large entity knew that soon the swarm would have to leave Zerus in order to assimilate more species into it. Soon, a large flock of semi-intelligent space travelling beasts orbited around Zerus, and the Overmind called to them. Lured by the entity's deafening call, the large beasts came down upon Zerus and were quickly incorporated into the Swarm. At that instant, the Zerg were ready for space travel.

While sending his new creatures patrolling the galaxy, the Overmind noticed the Xel'Naga world ships orbiting Zerus. The brain of the Zerg was wondering what exactly they were doing there. A couple of weeks later, the Xel'Naga were horrified: The Overmind had severed the psychic link that united the Xel'Naga and itself. Then, one night, the newly space travelling Zerg came upon the unsuspecting seers from beyond. The Zerg creatures slammed themselves into the hulls of the world ships. The creators of the horrid beasts could show little resistance. Before an hour, the invaders laid waste to the fleet.

While the Xel'Naga were being slaughtered, the Overmind caught their thoughts, and learned that the Zerg was not the first powerful specie the seers from beyond created. Thousands and thousands of light years away, there was another nation, a psionically advanced race. The brain of the Zerg knew that eventually, the Zerg and this "First-Born" would be caught into a never-ending conflict. So, the enormous Zerg swarm made its way towards the "First-Born's" home world, the beautiful jungle world of Aiur. The journey took several millennia.

The Zerg swarm landed on every planet it encountered and eradicated all of the indigenous creatures of each world, assimilating only the most powerful species. After the long expedition, Aiur was finally into sight. The raging Zerg caught the First-Born by surprise, placing several strategic bases on the planet's surface and attacking several cities. When the Overmind thought it had a big enough advantage, it ordered its minions to strike at the Sacred Temple, situated exactly in the middle of Aiur. The defenders fought with extreme power, and Tiamat required the assistance of the Jormugand Brood, the second most powerful Brood.

These two Broods made short work of the First-born's defence, and the Temple fell. The rubble of the great monument generated unknown power. The Overmind used that power to travel from Zerus to Aiur in no time at all. The First-Born fought back with indescribable gusto and rage. Several times, it seemed the First-Born could eliminate the Overmind. Eventually, when all Broods landed upon Aiur, the nefarious Zerg brain took the offensive again, driving the attackers back. Soon, the surviving First-Born were forced to abandon Aiur. They left their home world by means of a mystical warp gate that transported them to Shakuras, home of the Dark Templar, who had vainly tried to aid them into defeating the Zerg.

The vicious creatures were not able to follow their victims through the gate, for the mystical power of the gate allowed only the First-Born to pass. So the Overmind ruled over Aiur, incensed that their target had escaped their assimilation. It decided to follow the First-Born not by the warp gate, but the long way through space. Unfortunately for the Overmind, a few centuries later, the First-Born had expected this twisted scheme. A large fleet was waiting for the Zerg invaders and reduced them to piles of gore, floating silently into the void of space.

The Overmind was pleased at this powerful defence. It considered its enemies a worthy challenge. It even grew worried, for the Dark Templar, now allies once again with the First-Born, had the ability to bend the energies of the cosmos to their whims. The Overmind searched for a weapon to counter this ability.

And that's how it found humanity. It tracked their enormous transport ships, heading for the unoccupied Koprulu sector. The eye watched with fascination as these humans flourished into a powerful specie. The Overmind was certain that if it assimilated these creatures, it would be able to take over the First-Born and then the entire universe. It decided to leave as quickly as possible, but before it did, it created another Cerebrate that would be as dominant as Daggoth, so it could command a deadly Brood as well.

The Zerg brain created Sch'mee, Cerebrate of the Talos Brood. It then launched Sch'mee into space, and the Zerg General landed upon the industrial yet desolate planet of Moria. The Overmind then waited, to see the outcome of its clever idea. It was the Overmind. It had dominated over the First-Born of the Xel'Naga. It would dominate over the humans as well.

Its name was T'rgashi. One day, the Overmind received a message from Sch'mee.

"Master, the North of the human world is clear, you may land here at any time."

As such, T'rgashi and an exaggerated escort made their way towards Moria as well, disguised as meteors, just in case. Soon, a new breed would be included into the swarm. This breed would be the determinant between victory and defeat in the final assault against the First-Born.


	7. Friends to the end

Chapter seven: Friends to the end

Rodger was on his way back to his quarters, where his two goofy friends were probably waiting, ready to laugh at him and say that the reason of his unpunctuality was Feodora's doing. After a fairly long walk under the rain, he opened the door and entered. Kurt and Josart were indeed waiting for him, but it did not seem like they were going to make fun of him. In fact, their faces reflected perfect seriousness, which was very unusual, especially for Josart. 

Nevertheless, Rod greeted them happily:

"Hi guys! Guess where I was?"

Like robots, the giant and the shorter marine replied:

"At Feodora's bar."

Shocked, the Rodger moved towards his friends.

"What makes you two so sure?"

Jo quickly answered that question.

"Where else would you be at this time of night? The woman has a grip on you, Roddy-boy. And don't you forget: women cloud the mind. Sometimes, they'll pretend you mean something to them, but then they'll stab you in the back."

To Rod, this was extremely odd. Rodger never heard Josart make that much sense in a long, long time. Nervously, he asked:

"Uh…is…is something wrong, my friends?"

Kurt leered at him.

"Rod, you've been a real jerk lately. All you do every night is go to that…that MEDIC'S bar! Back in the north, we use to watch "Hockey night in Moria" together. And now look where we are! We hardly see you! Now, Jo and I are stuck here all alone. And God knows Josart can be a fruit sometimes."

Josart knew it was time for him to cut in, or else Kurt would insult him again.

"Yeah, Rod! When was the last time we all had a pint together? Probably when we arrived to the damn south! And that was the same night you met that… that bitch!"

Rodger got angry at the freckle-faced man's terminology.

"Take that back, Josart! Feodora's a great person! All she wants is to make this world a better place!"

"She can make another world a better place," nagged Josart. "There are many planets in the Koprulu sector. She can go heal General Edmund Duke's rheumatisms for all I care, but not here on Moria. Moria is our world!"

Kurt nodded his head, looking at Rodger with a glare. That's when the new wraith pilot got scared. He absolutely did not want to lose his two closest friends, or wish to lose his only female companion either. Rod then answered with tearful eyes.

"I…I'm sorry guys… you're both right… I am a jerk… I should have been with you boys more often, or at least sometimes. I know you must be upset because of the exaggerated amount of attention I give to Feodora, but she's been through so much… but nothing can replace you two… you're my boys. We've grown up together, we've learned stuff about the Zerg together, we got drunk together a few times, we fought and suffered together… If you guys want me to stop seeing Feodora forever, I will do it. I just don't think it's fair."

His olive eyes filled with water. He could say no more. His friends did not answer. They still looked at him coldly. Discouraged, Rodger turned his back on Kurt and Josart, forever, he thought, and ran outside in the rain. There, he collapsed on the floor. Flashbacks haunted his memory. That time Josart got sick when he dared him to eat a Frudge Beetle. The many times Kurt and himself had worked out to become strong men. When the three had fought in the wreckage of Command Center 27.

Before more memories could come, Rod noticed two pairs of shoes. Extremely large black shoes and silly purple shoes, that was no more than Kurt and Josart's shoes. Rodger looked up to see his two life long friends. Kurt smiled and bent down to get to his level.

"Listen, Rod. We're sorry. We were just afraid that this Feodora would become the only thing that was ever important to you. I know it was stupid of us to think that, now. We were jerks too. We never gave that medic a chance. Think you can forgive us?"

The man who was in the numerous puddles could not think of anything else to say but:

"Think you can forgive me?"

Josart fell to his knees in the water and held his friend close while crying like a baby.

"Yes, Roddy-boy, we forgive you! Wahhhhh! I love you!!"

Rodger smiled as tears of joy ran down his cheeks. He murmured:

"Jo, that is disturbing."

Kurt erupted into a merry laugh that sounded many times in the echo of the coastal city.

The three friends were more unified then ever before. They spent the rest of the night watching an old DVD Josart had purchased. It was so old that it came from Earth. In fact, DVD's were considered antique, for now there were halomicrodisk players that delivered much better quality of image and sound. These disks never skipped. The DVD featured old hockey teams from Earth.

"Man, talk about antique! Where did you find this, Jo?"

Lamont answered quickly.

"I found it at the antique store down the road. Isn't it incredible? An old DVD from 2005?"

Kurt took a sip of his beer and added:

"It sure is! I didn't think we would find something like that now, in the year 5001. I wonder if Earth still exists…"

Nobody answered the tall man's question. The two other marines were much too absorbed by the intense hockey action. Kurt shook his head about with a playful grin on his face, knowing his comrades would never change. After the movie was over, the boys swapped old stories until their eyelids became too heavy.

The next day, Rodger announced to his two roommates that he was being trained as a wraith pilot. Kurt Belek and Josart Lamont could not believe their ears.

"Wow! A wraith pilot! You lucky, lucky boy! How is it up in the sky?" asked the curious Josart.

"It's breathtaking. Everything is so small from a wraith, and being at the controls, I can see way better than in a dropship. Did you know a few scientists invented cloaking technology? Our wraiths will be able to go invisible soon."

The two goofs listened very carefully to each word of their companion's descriptions. About an hour later, it was noon, and Kurt decided to go work out at the Command Center's gym while Josart would go buy some magazines… magazines he could read a few months after he had already "looked them up".

Timidly, Rod asked if he could go see Feodora. Kurt smiled widely and stated:

"Certainly. You don't have to ask us, friend. Just never forget about us."

Josart nodded, but his eyes did not meet Rodger's. The freckled marine stared at the floor. After these words, each marine went their own way for the day. Everybody was happy. Everyone but Jo. The brown eyes were filled with detestation as he walked towards his "bookstore". He still felt resentment towards the medic, thinking they all belonged in the north during the assault. He secretly wished that a Hydralisk would sneak in the city and devour her.

These thoughts seemed to escape Rodger, though, as he walked steadily in his encounter suit towards the tavern where he would see his female pal, glad his oldest friends had finally grown to accept her… or so he thought.

She looked at her watch nervously. Where could he be? The marine who had brought her so much happiness lately was nearly always on time. She was worried that perhaps he had some very important business to attend to. As the time passed, she even grew concerned enough to think he might had been into a battle and had fallen. Feodora sighed of relief when she saw Rodger jog towards her with a calm smile.

Before she could say anything or mention his lateness, he quickly exclaimed:

"Hello, Feo. Come on! Come on! Follow me! There's something you have to see!"

The confused medic tried to complain, telling her excited comrade there was no way she could abandon her post at noon and that she still had a few hours before her next break. Rod would hear nothing of it, though, and he grabbed her hand as he ran towards the coastal city's spaceport.

When the pair got there, Rodger kept sprinting towards the smaller launching pads. Abruptly, he stopped his race, and pointed towards a small ship.

"There she is. My wraith. Her name is Catrine. Isn't she a beauty?"

Feodora looked upon the fighter jet with great admiration. Its hulking black wings, its menacing laser cannon, its intimidating missile launchers and its heavy cockpit fascinated the healer in their own different ways. She could not help but agree:

"Oh yes. It is a very beautiful ship. But why on Moria did you bring me here? I might get severely scolded for ditching my post early. I should go back… see ya, Rodger…"

She tried to walk away, but Rod grabbed her hand again, quickly, yet tenderly.

"Don't you want to know what its like?"

Feodora was confused.

"What is like what?"

"What it's like…up there…" Rod finished.

It was magnificent, beautiful, spectacular, and unbelievable… as well as several other words Feodora would have used to describe the coastal city from a few thousand feet in the air. She was in the cockpit with the marine, looking at the city where she had grown up and trained as a medic. The enormous skyscrapers seemed so small, the cars looked like multicoloured ants. The only discomfort was that she was all over Rodger because wraiths are one-man fighter jets and should not have two people in its driving area, but the breathtaking view was very much worth it.

Her eyes lightened up with happiness more than ever before. Her friend was piloting the wraith with extreme ease and skill, and they flew at a high speed. She giggled as Rod drove the wraith through a heavy cloud, and enjoyed seeing it split away, just like soldiers bow before Emperor Mengsk.

"This is going to be fun. This is what Captain Aureus calls "Evasive manoeuvres." Said Rodger.

Catrine's cockpit was filled with a marine's carefree laughter and with the screams of a panicking medic as she flew into a loop, then into a few barrel rolls, and finally a summersault.

"Stop!! STOPPP!!!" yelled Feodora as loudly as she could when the olive-eyed pilot entered a new series of barrel rolls.

The ship became stable again, and Feodora's head snuggled against Rod's shoulder, breathing heavily, but laughing nervously. When the medic's bright eyes met Rodger's and smiled, he decided it was time for her to man her post again, or else she might be disciplined. It was nothing the new and skilled pilot wanted to do, but it had to be done. He silently wished that this moment would last forever. When the wraith landed in the spaceport again, Feodora jumped to the ground happily.

"I'll take you back to your bar and if any of your superiors are there, I'll tell them you abandoned your post because of me."

Feodora nodded to her friend's plan, in a good mood.

When they got to the tavern, there was indeed the master doctor waiting impatiently. He looked upon the two friends and yelled:

"Where have you been, miss Martexy? Desertion is punishable by loss of current job."

Feodora couldn't believe it! All this time, she had the worst job ever, but all she had to do was to ditch her appointed location to lose it! She pretended she was saddened by these news:

"Oh no! What is going to be my job if I can't be a drunken men healer?"

The master doctor thought it over for a while, then replied:

"You are to be an in-field medic for the upcoming assault upon the Talos, as a punishment. If you survive, you will be able to take your old employment again."

The medic and the marine waited for some time, but as soon as the doctor was out of sight, Feodora lept into an unsuspecting Rodger's arms.

"Rod! You saved me!! You saved me from being stuck in that damn tavern for the rest of my life! Thanks to you, the days of getting thrown-up upon are over! I'll be able to see the world and save lives! God bless you! You and your Catrine!"

Rod did not know what to do to return the embrace, but eventually he caught on and placed his hands around the medic's encounter suit's waist. Suddenly he wished she were not wearing it. He wished he could hold Feodora Martexy's true form into his arms. The hug lasted a few minutes, but finally, Feodora broke free. The rapscallion who had taken her on a wraith-ride decided it was his turn to speak:

"This means you'll be going to the north too. Will you be with us?"

Feodora answered quickly:

"I'll go with you, Rodger Hertubiz. I'll go with you to the edge of the universe. You freed me. I owe you everything… but your friends… I don't know them. I would have to meet them."

Rod couldn't imagine how this day could be any better. Now his friend Feodora would meet his life long buddies!

"Alright," he said. "We'll come around your quarters at about nine o'clock."

The golden haired woman gave the pilot her angelic smile and walked away. Rodger started to walk away as well, but Feodora called him from a distance.

"Rodger?"

The man turned around.

"Yes?"

She approached him again.

"We'll be friends till the end, right? No matter what happens in the north?"

Hertubiz looked deep into the emerald eyes and answered:

"We'll be together, Feo, and you can be sure. Forever and a day, that's how long we'll stay. Together and forever more."

Her eyes became watery at those vows of friendship. A second cuddle came in even more unexpectedly then the first. Rodger heard Feodora's emotion-broken voice say very comforting words:

"Friends till the end…"


	8. Tragic patrol

Chapter eight: Tragic patrol

"Feodora? The medic? You're shitting me." Murmured Kurt when Rodger announced he wanted his friends to meet her tonight.

"I'm serious. She wants to meet you guys. I mean, come on, Kurt! You two never even gave her a chance."

Kurt Belek was lost in his thoughts for a few seemingly endless moments, but the silence was broken with his approval:

"I'll go. You're right, Rod. We never did give her a chance. Maybe she's as good a person as you say after all."

A smile decorated the green-eyed man's face. The giant shared that facial status. On a couch, only a few feet away from the discussion between Kurt and Rodger, Josart Lamont sat there in silence, frowning. He could not believe Kurt was actually going to try and make peace with this healing woman. Perhaps his tall friend would actually learn to appreciate the medic too. Furious, he kept his hatred for the woman for himself.

"What about you, Jo? Will you come with us?"

Jo thought the smartest thing to do was to conceal his resentment towards Feodora.

"Naw, I'm good, Roddy-boy. I'll just stay home and read my new magazines."

Rodger allowed himself to insist for a few minutes, but each time the green haired marine refused, each time he put more determination into his refusal. In the long run, the pilot thought perhaps Josart needed a bit of quiet time, so he let it go.

A few hours later, Kurt and his insisting friend departed from their quarters towards Feodora's, while the Josart would "enjoy" his reading. That's at least what the two friends thought, but in fact, Jo was simply mumbling behind the medic's back.

Rodger smiled. He looked at Kurt and Feodora, laughing together like old friends. They adapted to each other perfectly. As he helped himself to another glass of red wine, he raised his glass and proposed a toast:

"Here's to a wonderful day, wonderful friends, and a wonderful life."

Kurt stood up beside his friend.

"I'll second that."

The three unified members of the Kel-Morian combine clanged their glasses together and drank jovially. Kurt, out of nowhere, softly chucked and said:

"Hey, Rodger… Remember back in high-school when we were on the football team? And we went to state championship and won? What did we say?"

"Oh no…" thought Rodger. "Not now… not in front of Feodora!"

Kurt surrounded the embarrassed man's neck with one of his massive arms and began to chant:

"Weeeeeeeeeeeee are the championnnnnnnnnsssssss…. We areeeeeeeeeeee the championssssssss… no time for looooooooosers cause we arrreeeeeee the championnnnnnnnss… OF THE WORLD!!!"

Olive eyes were filled with embarrassment. Rod looked at the beautiful woman uneasily, but he noticed she was laughing loudly. Encouraged by this, he joined his friend in the mantra. The three of them spent the remainder of the night simply retracing their own past, telling others each other's secrets. Finally, it was time for the two visitors to depart, and before they left, Feodora asked where they would be tomorrow.

"A Commodore asked a group of marines to patrol the coast and nearby hills, because Zerg flyers have been detected in that area."

"Overlords?" asked Feodora.

"Most likely."

Overlords were large, lumbering flying beasts that would dictate control over Zerg individuals. The Zerg functioned on some sort of control system: The Overmind controlled all of the Zerg Cerebrates, which commanded all of their own Overlords, which reigned with absolute power over the "underlings". Humanity was still unaware of the Overmind's existence, but they knew that, of course, Zerg Cerebrates were brilliant enough to order their larvae to produce far more Overlords then required, for if an Overlord was killed, some Zerg would lose control over themselves and would go rampaging around and destroy everything in sight. With additional of the controlling creatures, this wouldn't happen, for they could "share" the control over the Zerg warriors.

Overlords also had a ventral sac, capable of ferrying the largest of Zerg creatures within their stomachs and unload them on foreign worlds, because Overlords could travel in space.

"A few Overlords shouldn't be anything you can't handle." Feodora added.

Kurt and Rodger nodded:

"Of course. That's why we insisted in going without medics, cause they won't be needed."

With those final words, the marines left her quarters. She smiled as they disappeared into the night. Kurt was a very nice man, too, but Rodger was still a much closer friend, she decided. The youthful medic decided it was time to get some sleep. She got out of her encounter suit and quickly she was asleep. When Kurt and Rodger got home, Josart was also sleeping, and it was not long until they decided to imitate him.

"Die…"

On the ground on his back, Rodger was looking at the red sky, and at numerous fireballs that flew in the sky; all produced by the planet's several volcanoes. This surely was not Moria. The air was barely breathable. There must have been fifteen times the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere that Rodger was used to.

But, more striking, he was surrounded by hundreds of thousands of Zerg creatures. He could tell most of them were Hydralisks, but he also noticed species of Zerg he had never yet encountered, especially a few monstrous Zerg killers, bigger than an elephant with giant jagged blades on each of its two arms, while it still rampage around on its four crushing legs. The dying marine stretched his neck a bit more and he saw a huge brain-like entity, with a massive eye on the very top of it. He recognized that eye in a million. It was the same that had haunted his previous dreams.

"You've fallen before the swarm, Rodger Hertubiz." Said the eye. "You've fallen before I, T'rgashi…"

Rod tried to respond, but all he could do was cough out a lump of blood from his mouth. He looked up again and saw the foot of one of the gigantic creatures crash into his face.

He awakened. Rodger was exasperated with these dreams that disturbed him for several nights in a row. He wondered if these dreams had a meaning. Was that giant brain real? Did those gruesome large Zerg monsters exist? There was one question that truly frightened the dreamer, however: Would Feodora die? He got out of his bed, got on his knees, used the bed for support for his elbows and made a prayer to God.

"God…don't let Feodora fall before these Zerg… I'm…I'm so worried about her. Please… let these dreams have no meaning… Amen."

The tired pilot crawled back into his bed, looked out the window, and fell asleep. If he would have stayed awake just a few seconds longer, he would have seen a shooting star, as if the Lord heard his prayer and agreed.

The next day, Rodger, Kurt, Josart and several other marines of the Kel-Morian combine were inspecting the coast. No signs of a Zerg presence were apparent. The intelligent Rodger searched in the mucky sand for footprints of any kind, but found none. Another marine, a particularly fat one, had the same idea, but he came more successful.

"Look at this!"

The squad of thirty marines soon surrounded the fat fellow. He found a long, slithering mark in the sand, along with several large and deep holes following it on each side.

"A Hydralisk." Said Hertubiz. "It must be. The profundity of the mark indicates its heavy weight, and the several holes that follow it shows where it sank its blades in order to drag itself for more speed. Let's follow this trail for a while."

"Yes sir, sir Hertupiss!" approved Jo.

Before he could say any more nonsense, Kurt hit him in the back of the helmet to show a bit of respect for their friend's discovery. As a good tracker, Rodger followed the Hydralisk's trail, followed by the rest of the group. The trace of the Zerg creature led them to the hills and it continued on the other side of one. The marines climbed the obstacle with ease, but an unforeseen and unwanted sight awaited them…

The trail ended, for the beast just laid there lifeless. Its blood covered the ground all about it. The traumatized men approached the dead creature.

"It is dead all right… just look at its wide open mouth… its flat eyes, frozen in place." Said Rodger.

He took a deep breath of disgust at the sights and smells his senses had to withstand, but he turned to Belek and Lamont, his two most trusted friends.

"Go quickly back to base. Tell them we found a dead Hydralisk, and that the Kel-Morian had nothing to do with it… otherwise the entire southern provinces would be warned. This means that Zerg forces have truly arrived to finish what they started."

"Yes sir, sir Hertupiss!" shouted Josart.

He jogged towards the base, followed closely by Kurt, who wanted to trip him for insulting their oldest friend again. Rodger managed a smile while looking at his friends speeding away. He looked upon the corpse again, and, filled with awe, he noticed it was a member of the Talos Brood, because it had pink stripes around its eyes that stretched all the way to the back of its large ruff. Suddenly, an urge to kick the creature seized Rod.

He couldn't control it; he raised his foot and nailed it with a swift blow. Some of the marines in the group whispered to themselves, wondering why the tracker had done such a thing. Rodger didn't stop at a kick, though: soon he was flailing his leg again and again, hitting the dead Hydralisk in the face countless times. Finally, he realised his actions were pointless, so he put his bloodied boot back on the soil.

"Calm yourself, soldier." Another marine called.

The rage filled eyes of the usually gentle marine returned to calm. He kneeled next to the beast, and touched its head where he had kicked it. He pulled it back quickly when he noticed a deep hole on the side of the Hydralisk's head.

"What on Moria…?" murmured the olive-eyed man. "Soldiers, help me flip this thing over!"

Quickly the squad was pushing the dead body, and although it boasted a great weight, the strong men were capable to fill the task. The Hydralisk was now on its back. Whispers of disbelief filled the squadron when they noticed the abundant similar holes in the creature's stomach, and blood continued to flow from its several wounds. Rodger placed one of his hands inside one of the cuts, and quoted:

"A human weapon would never be able to penetrate a Hydralisk's skin that deep. What can it be? Whatever it was, it could not be indigenous to Moria… The largest Morian creatures, such as the Rhynadon, fear the smallest Zerg creatures."

While Rod was explaining this, the fat marine found numerous sets of footprints near the body. They were twice the length of the obese man's. The marines simply looked at themselves in terror. A superstitious marine yelled:

"It's the end of the world!" and he cowered back to base, a trip of several minutes.

"Coward." Stated most of the other men in the scouting team.

"Well, it appears this Hydralisk was ambushed by several unknown creatures that walk on two feet and aren't that different from us… I guess." Continued the pilot. "Let's all head back to base."

They all took a step, but then they froze. They heard noise on the other side of the hill, where they had come from. A foreign language was then heard:

"Entaro Adun! Entaro Tassadar!"

The marines, not knowing what to do, grounded themselves. Soon, ten strange beings were seen on top of the hill. Their faces were very coloured, some of the purest white while others were a light green, and how flat they were! They had no nose, no mouth, but their face was much longer then a human's, from the forehead to the chin. Their eyes were glowing; some were yellow, others of the evilest red. Their hands were gargantuan, but wielded only three fingers on each hand, and their skin was the same tint as their face. Their arms and legs were shockingly longer then the humans'. Being fairly muscular, yet very thin, the shortest of them were no more then two meters in height.

They were protected by armour not at all similar to the marines'. First of all, it was yellow, did not protect their heads, and exposed several different vulnerable areas of their bodies, such as their stomach. They had enormous bands of metal covering their entire forearm, but the purpose of that piece of armour was unknown, at the moment. Rodger cleared his throat:

"Her-hum… Greetings. I am Ro…"

He could not continue. The tallest of all the unknown beings interrupted the marine and shouted:

"Entaro Tassadar! Entaro Aiur!"

He then squeezed his hands into fists, and doing so, he hit a hidden button situated on each of his palms that were connected to the strange forearm bands. To the surprise of the humans, a glowing blue light emerged from both bands. It was around seventy-five centimeters in length. All of the beings imitated their leader, and then they charged at the marines. Having no real leader, the humans panicked and opened fire upon the creatures as they stampeded heavily down the hill towards the squadron.

Rodger thought the creatures quite stupid: there were now twenty-seven marines and ten of them. It seemed almost suicidal. He aimed carefully and shot one of them in the exposed stomach, but then something Rod could have never guessed happened. A strange blue aura surrounded the charging individual; it looked like lightning.

"A shield???" yelled the marine.

He only heard of such defensive mechanisms in sci-fi movies, but now a creature wielding a personal shield charged towards him. Being in the front row, Rodger backed up a few steps while continuing his attack. One of the menacing creatures was getting dangerously close.

"Concentrate all fire upon that one!" ordered the fat marine.

Rodger nodded silently and began firing upon the appointed target. He was relieved when the blue aura ceased to appear after a few seconds of intense shooting, so he knew the shields were destroyable. Soon, the unknown being fell to the floor, mortally injured, but instead of simply lying there like all normal dead creatures do, it turned into a magnificent blue fire. The others, boosted by rage of their fallen comrade, soon got into range. Rodger, from a far distance behind the main action, blinked heavily. These creatures began slicing and dicing away at the Morian scouts fiercely. The elegant dance of the blue blades erupted.

Rodger, horrified, saw several of his companions pierced by the wrist wielded sharp weapons. The fat marine that had proved useful fell dead to the ground, with the sapphire weapon entering his chest and coming out of his back. What power these beings demonstrated! Even the reinforced encounter suit was no match for the deadly blades.

The murdering warrior quickly removed his weapon from his enemy's corpse and went on to get more kills. Rodger felt himself get dizzy. The attackers were hardly injured, protected by their shields and armour. A loud sound made everyone look upwards. There was an irregularly large meteor in the sky, followed by several other smaller meteors. Using his binoculars, Rodger saw that the smaller meteors were in fact Overlords and several other flying Zerg creatures Rodger had never seen before. Then a voice was heard in his head:

"So this is Moria… This is where we shall defeat humanity and assimilate them into the swarm."

Assimilate them into the swarm… assimilate them into the swarm… Rodger had heard words resembling those before in his dream last night! He understood.

"Oh no…" he said "T'rgashi..."

Looking around him, he noticed the battle was over. There were only three more marines left, and they were cut down from where they stood. One of them was even cut in half, his legs still standing steadily. He noticed he was the only survivor, and that the entire group had only managed to kill another one of the beings: One marine alone against the fierce warriors.

Incapable to stand anymore, the survivor felt his eyes close, dropped his rifle and he felt like he was falling. Before he fully lost his consciousness, he thought he heard a gloomy distant voice shout:

"Er'atta! Er'atta! Er'atta, Shonna Adun!"

Dead, out-cold or asleep, Rodger had no idea. All he knew was that the last thing he saw in his mind before he thought himself dead was Feodora, Kurt and Josart reaching out for him…


	9. Protoss: The FirstBorn

Chapter nine: Protoss: the First-Born

He didn't think he would awaken. When he did, though, he was not on the bloodstained field where a vicious battle had been fought an unknown amount of time ago. He was in a bed covered with warm unfamiliar animal fur. He looked all around him. He thought he might be in heaven. The walls were covered with crystals, rubies and sapphires, and the walls themselves were glowing. There were several books in the room on a superbly crafted bookshelf.

Rodger Hertubiz stood up, looked outside the window and viewed Moria from outer space. He didn't know his native planet was so brown. The bewildered marine thought more and more he was in heaven, and that he would have the chance to look at his loved ones from there. He kept inspecting his godly room, touching the walls with the tip of his fingers. Curious, he wanted to see what kind of books angels read in heaven. He grabbed a large tome decorated with an emerald.

The green jewel made him wonder if he would ever see Feodora again. Fighting back a tear, he opened the book and, dazed, he noticed it was written in strange symbols that he could not even begin to understand.

Suddenly, the door of the room opened automatically, and Rodger almost fainted again. One of the strange creatures that had massacred his squadron stood before him. With a mouth wide open with disbelief, the survivor of the attack heard a voice inside his head again, although this one was less hollow, rougher and spoke with more serenity.

"Entaro Adun."

Recognizing the words, Rod screamed like a little girl, until he heard more words in his head.

"Do not be afraid, human. I am Bur'klok, emissary of the Protoss council. The council wishes for you to talk with them at this very instant. If your noble Humanness wills, please follow me."

"Bur'klok" walked away heavily, followed closely by an astonished Rodger. He tagged along Bur'klok for a few hallways of the impeccable design of the space ship orbiting over Moria, but he stopped abruptly.

"Wait a minute there, uh, B…Bukl…Burlok…Blor…"

"Bur'klok." The alien corrected.

"Exactly… what are you? Why did you slaughter my kin down on Moria? I saw you cut Marcus Harper in half!"

The questioned creature from outer space simply shook his head and replied:

"I was following orders. I am a Protoss. Protoss Zealots always long for combat, mark my words… but you humans were barely a challenge."

Rod gritted his teeth and followed the Zealot. Soon, they entered a room and Bur'klok asked the marine to sit down in a chair, highly decorated by precious gems.

"Prelate Zeratul will be here with you shortly."

"Zeratul?"

"Correct. Please remain here. I will be back with beverages for you and the great Prelate."

The passionate warrior left the room. The new room had no windows, but there was a large table with an open book that was upside down. Rodger allowed himself to take a look. He could not read a single word from the book, but he saw a familiar illustration. It looked like the creature in his dream, with the great, evil eye. He'd ask a Protoss to read it for him, he thought, while putting the digest in his ammunition backpack.

The door opened. Expecting to see another Protoss like Bur'klok, Rodger stood up. However, the door opened by itself and no one was there. A voice called to Rodger's mind once again from behind.

"Give me that book, human."

The pilot turned around but he saw nobody. He felt someone searching in his backpack and retrieve the tome. He saw the book float in the air a few meters from the ground! It was not moving! It just hovered there! That's when a Protoss appeared. He was clothed in a light red cape and strange pants. He wore a hood, and his eyes were a flashy orange. He had an amulet on his forehead, bearing a large ruby.

"Greetings, human. I am Zeratul."

"Greetings Zeratul, my name's Rodger Hertubiz, marine and pilot for the Kel-Morian combine. Could you answer a few questions for me?"

"Certainly," agreed the Protoss. "That is why I am here."

"First of all, was it you who took back that book from me?"

"Yes. I am a Dark Templar, the forgotten brethren of the Protoss. We were banished from our home world of Aiur many years ago… Dark Templar have the ability to blend the energies of the cosmos around them, making us virtually invisible."

Understanding what the Prelate was saying to him, Rodger, feeling more and more reassured that he would not die, asked another question:

"What is it that you want from Moria? Why did you slaughter my squad on those fields?"

Zeratul rubbed his chin casually, then spoke:

"It was not our intention. Judicator Aldaris believes you and your kin are tyrants and should all be slaughtered. Under Aldaris' order, Bur'klok and a few other Zealots attacked your forces. We want nothing from your people, at least the Dark Templar do not. We came here from our distant planet of Shakuras to battle the dreaded Zerg Overmind."

At those words, Zeratul showed Rodger the illustration from the book he had taken back from the human.

"It came to Moria for an unknown reason, but we have reasons to believe that the Overmind attempts to assimilate humanity into the Zerg swarm. You see, human, the Zerg are an entirely biological race, driven by cannibalism and consumption of other species…"

"Forgive me for interrupting, noble Zeratul, but I know all about the Zerg. I know how is it it incorporates new species into its ranks, but I know nothing of the Protoss. Tell me more about your own race, Prelate, I beg."

Touched by the human's politeness, Zeratul decided that he would tell the tale of his glorious people to the soldier.

"We Protoss were created by the awesome energies of the Xel'Naga, otherwise known as "those who see beyond". We were born on the jungle planet of Aiur. There, we grew together in a unified tribe. We were very prosperous and cooperative. The Protoss have unmatched speed and power compared to the species native to Aiur, but more characteristically unique, the Protoss can communicate in telepathy, as I am doing to you right now.

"For several millennia, we lived in harmony, until the Xel'Naga descended upon our planet. They were our creators, and we knew that they were our Gods. We began worshipping them, but by doing so, our union began to break, and we separated into small tribes. Soon, small feuds and wars raged between tribes, and the Xel'Naga considered us a failed creation, for later we learned they created several other creatures before us, but were never pleased with their results. As such, they abandoned us on Aiur, and, furious, the Protoss followed them on their world ships and killed several of them.

"The Xel'Naga were miraculously able to escape, and the Protoss then turned against themselves. For a millennium, my ancestors fought viciously against their own kin, who they had been friends with before the arrival of the Xel'Naga. It was the bloodiest war in known galactic history, and our people lost their psychic link.

"One fortunate day, an unnamed hero, who in history is to be referred to as "Khas", or "he who brings order" stumbled upon crystals of mystical power. With the aid of these relics, the Khaydarin crystals, Khas relearned the ways of the Protoss. He gathered several young Protoss and also thought them the psychic powers their ancestors once had. Soon, firm law that is today called "The Khala" controlled Aiur again. The Khala separated the Protoss into three factions that worked together. The Judicators, basically the politicians of Aiur and experts in the Khala, the Templar, who were the defenders of Aiur, and the Khalai, who manufactured new technologies for the Protoss, such as our plasma shields you've seen in battle.

"Our people were once again peaceful and intelligent, and we began to reconstruct what we had lost. Our home world of Aiur once again was the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. However, some still believed in the Xel'Naga and refused to obey the Khala. These channelled the energies of the Khaydarin crystals with themselves, and this caused deadly lightning storms across the world. A young Templar who was ranked executor named Adun, was ordered to slaughter the rebels with the help of a large detachment of Templars.

"However, Adun was a peaceful Protoss, and he made friends with the rebels, trying to teach them the ways of the Khala. Adun was actually doing a fine job until the Judicators got angered for they thought the insurgents should be killed for their crimes. The mutineers unleashed a storm of energy once again, and accidentally, they killed Adun. Aware that they had committed a crime by killing their friend, the rebels, now known as the Dark Templar, accepted any punishment the Judicators could unleash upon them. They never thought the penalty would be exile from Aiur, and for the Dark Templar, this was worse than death, for Aiur was such a beautiful planet, none ever wanted to depart from it.

"They arrived on Shakuras; a blue planet where it seemed like it was always twilight. They remained there forever, but they were so infuriated with the Judicators that they severed their psychic link with them. We Dark Templar never heard of our home world for over four centuries, but we secretly assisted our brethren on Aiur, more to protect Aiur itself then the Protoss who lived there that we absolutely loathed.

"About one hundred years ago, a young Templar came to us. His name was Tassadar, a hero in the Protoss history as well. The brave Templar gained our respect and admiration, but he brought terrible news from our beloved Aiur. The Zerg Swarm, commanded by the nefarious Zerg Overmind, had viciously attacked it. Worse still, the Xel'Naga, who created us first, and gave us the name of "Protoss", or "First-Born", created the Zerg. The invaders even destroyed our last Protoss Temple, where for many years we worshipped the Xel'Naga."

Rodger was taking more and more interest into this tale, as the chronicles fascinated him.

"We, the Dark Templar, followed Tassadar to Aiur to fight off the assailants. We nearly annihilated them, but the Overmind did not fall without a fight. In a final attempt, the great Tassadar used his own capital ship, a ship like this one, and crashed into the Overmind. I think this nearly killed the creature, but it was still not enough, and the Zerg fought back with more courage then ever before, fearing for their leader. The swarm made short work of most of our cities, and to our depression, we were forced to abandon Aiur.

"We used our last functional warp gate and arrived on Shakuras, there where the Zerg could not follow us easily. When the Zerg swarm returned, we were expecting them, and our large war fleet cut their transports to pieces."

Zeratul stopped a moment to catch his breath.

"This, human, is the story of the Protoss. We would do anything to reclaim our home world of Aiur."

Rod was amazed by the story. Unfortunately, the story had left him with additional questions.

"Excuse me, great and tremendous Prelate, you said you are a Dark Templar, is that right?"

"Correct."

"How can it be you remember your home Aiur if Tassadar came to the Dark Templar one hundred years ago?"

Zeratul was enthused by the logic of this man, and he answered:

"Ah yes, the Protoss have a longevity much greater than yours, young human. I, Zeratul, am aged of six hundred and ninety seven years. Bur'klok, who you have seen earlier, and who should be here soon with cocktails, being a young Protoss, is two hundred and seventeen years old."

Rod was incredulous, but he knew this grave and intellectual Prelate would not lie to him.

"One last question," demanded the marine. "Why was I spared on the fields of Moria?"

At that instant, the "young" Zealot, Bur'klok, entered the room again, holding two glasses containing fluorescent blue liquid.

"Thank you, Bul'kor." Thanked Rodger.

"Bur'klok."

The Dark Templar and Zealot corrected together at the same time.

"Now, for your question," continued Zeratul, "you were only spared because of my arrival. When I got there, I shouted "Er'atta! Er'atta! Er'atta, Shonna Adun!" which in the Protoss tongue means: "Hold! Hold! Hold, warriors of Adun!" Besides, the vicious Overmind, being a horrendous foe, we would not mind having as great an ally as humanity."

The young pilot thought for a few seconds, and then added his thanks, for without the Dark Templar, Rodger would also be cut down like the rest of his squad. He then turned to Bur'klok:

"Greetings, Protoss, I am Rodger Hertubiz, marine and pilot for the Kel-Morian combine," he said while moving his hand towards the Zealot, expecting a handshake.

Bur'klok, unfamiliar with this human custom, shook the man's hand uncomfortably at first, but became more convinced that the marine was not a bad person. As for Zeratul, if he had a mouth, he would have been smiling.

"En…t…aro…Adun."

The man said nervously. He just arrived in the ship's control room. Several colourful Protoss eyes looked at him. Zeratul and Bur'klok were on each side of Rodger, each having a hand on either of his shoulders.

"Well done." Said Zeratul. "You are already doing fine in learning the ways of the Protoss."

A very old Protoss woman stood from a table:

"Greetings, young man. I am Raszagal, Matriarch of the Dark Templar."

Another Protoss stood up as well, this one much less friendly looking.

"Entaro Adun, I am Judicator Aldaris."

Rodger took a few minutes to study Aldaris. Unlike most Protoss, his skin was a dark blue, and his yellow eyes gave a particularly hostile stare. He looked at the Protoss who insulted his kin and had ordered the slaughter of his comrades with little respect, but thought it unfair to judge Aldaris right away by his past actions.

"Please be seated." Asked the Matriarch. "Please, human, tell us everything that has recently happened on your home world."

Rodger casually took a sip of the beverage Bur'klok had brought him earlier, which he thought very fine, and he told the Protoss, whom he trusted entirely now, about everything: the exam, the vicious attack that occurred in the north, the Overlords. In an hour, the Kel-Morian had told the first-born everything he knew.

Alarmed, Aldaris, the Judicator, asked the colour of the Brood that had attacked the north. Pink and black was Rodger's answer. The Protoss looked at each other.

"You know about Broods, correct?" asked Zeratul.

The human nodded.

"Cerebrates, young man, do you know about Cerebrates?" inquired the Matriarch.

The questioned had no idea what a Cerebrate was.

"Cerebrates are like larger Overlords, young man," explained the Matriarch. "Just like Overlords control individuals, Cerebrates control all Overlords. We believe that if a Cerebrate is killed, it will lose control over all of its minions, and the Zerg it formerly controlled will be pacified. We believe a new Cerebrate has emerged on your world, for we never heard of a pink and black Brood."

The sudden appearance of the Talos Brood and the Protoss explanation seemed to merge all too well. It had to be a new Cerebrate. It could not be anything else. The Matriarch, being a very kind Protoss, asked the man if he could leave the room for a second, for the First-Born had to discuss this matter.

"It was nice to meet you, Rodger Hertubiz of the Kel-Morian combine." She added.

Rodger was once again flabbergasted, for he had not spoken his true name in front of the council. He guessed the Matriarch of the Dark Templar had psychic powers superior to the already impressive capabilities of the Protoss. Just as the human was about to leave the room, Zeratul stopped him:

"If you have a moment, human, there is someone I would like you to meet."

Rod, having nothing to do in the Protoss warship, decided to follow the Prelate.

The great iron spider stood in a room. It remembered its days in the fields of battle, how it ran with passion and mercilessly cut down Zerg forces. Often, it wished it hadn't died, but it had. Now, it was reduced to living as one of the great four legged spiders known as Dragoons. And now, a human, a creature who had perhaps one ninth of the Protoss' wide lifespan, was among them. In fact, the human was expected to meet the great spider very soon. Indeed, Rodger had just entered the room, alongside Prelate Zeratul.

When the human saw the Dragoon, he yelled.

"Zeratul! What is this new devilry??"

The Dark Templar placed a reassuring hand upon the Kel-Morian's shoulder:

"Peace, Rodger, this is Fenix, a stalwart warrior as I have ever known."

A coarse voice that truly reflected pride and vigour emerged from the strange spider.

"I salute you, Rodger Hertubiz of the Kel-Morian combine. I am Fenix."

While Rod was starring at the great arachnid's cockpit filled with blue smoke, Zeratul became invisible again and left the human with his old friend. When the man noticed this, he spun around on himself several times, looking for the Prelate, for he felt uncomfortable speaking to a big spider.

"I understand you might be intimidated by my appearance, but you should not. I will not harm you."

The Dragoon came closer to the marine, being five times its length and twice as tall.

"Hello, Fenix." The human said weakly, slightly terrified.

Fenix chuckled:

"I am certain that none of my brethren have told you about Dragoons. I will explain it to you, if you allow me."

Rodger simply nodded his head, mouth open wide.

"When Zealots die on the field of battle, or are mortally injured, they are placed inside one of these. As such, the fallen have a second chance at life, and can also serve the Protoss cause to a certain degree."

Rod was becoming more at ease conversing to a dead Zealot.

"Were the Dragoon exoskeleton invented by the Khalai? Prelate Zeratul told me the Khalai invented all sorts of technology to make Protoss life more convenient."

An impressed Fenix answered this question with surprise.

"Indeed, human. You learn the ways of the Protoss very quickly. In fact, you were sent here to me so I could teach you the ways of my people."

Interested, Rodger could not refuse. The foreign specie known as the First-Born fascinated him more and more with each Protoss he met.

Meanwhile, the Protoss council was taking place. There was one thing that was agreed by all: the Cerebrate of the Talos Brood must be destroyed at all costs. Believing that Rodger Hertubiz would be an important asset in the upcoming battle, the Matriarch, Zeratul, and other members of the First-Born council renewed with hope, for they knew that Rodger knew Moria well, especially the north, and that he could guide them. All were pleased with their new ally.

Everyone except Aldaris. He thought it wrong to put so much trust into a stupid human. If his experiment proved correct, he knew he might be able to turn around the council's decision, and order the complete obliteration of the Zerg… and humanity as well.


	10. Northern fears, crushing tears

Chapter ten: Northern fears, crushing tears

"I can't believe it! As if the Zerg were not enough!" Acturus Mengsk, the human Emperor, said, slamming his fist against his desk when he heard the report. "Twenty-seven marines! Twenty-seven! All dead! Duke, I hereby order you to pass this order on to every single soldier of the Kel-Morian combine: whomsoever sees or spots a vehicle or creature unknown to us is ordered to shoot it on sight!"

General Duke nodded, and broadcasted the news all over the south of Moria.

She just stood there. She could not move. She saw nothing else but the fallen bodies. She noticed Kurt looking at every corpse in the field, running around, from fallen marine to fallen marine extremely quickly. She noted Josart sitting silently in a ball. She observed as the other medics gathered the dead men and loaded them in the ambulance to take them to the morgue and then bury them.

The tall handsome marine came to Feodora, with tears in his eyes.

"I…I can't find him, Feodora. Rodger's not in there. Maybe… maybe he escaped… oh God, I hope so… if he didn't send us to report the dead Hydralisk, we would be dead too… He sent us because he believed in us… his faith in his friends saved us."

Kurt Belek could say no more. His great sadness turned into anger as he unloaded a round of bullets into the air, screaming in anger maniacally. He threw his Gauss Rifle on the floor and ran as fast as he could away from that cursed place.

Feodora looked at him go, feeling as grieved as he did. She did not know what had killed these men, for it sure was not Zerg. She would have thought about it some more if Josart Lamont had not came behind her and started shaking her like a banana tree.

"YOU STUPID MEDIC! IF YOU AND YOUR KIND KNEW WHEN TO SHOW YOUR DAMN ASSES, MAYBE MY FRIEND WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!! I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU ALL!!!"

He pushed the healing woman to the ground, stepped on her stomach and ran after Kurt, crying as well. Feodora knew that Jo's uncontrollable rage was not his usual behaviour. She stood up, wiped off the dust off her encounter suit, and walked back towards the base, heartbroken. She got back to her quarters, alone. The medic looked at herself in the mirror for several hours that night, water escaping her eyes and rolling softly upon her delicate cheeks.

The next day, the counterattack had begun. Five nuclear missiles were launched at the northern coast at five thirty in the morning. When blasts were heard and the horizon turned green from chemicals, dropships were loaded with men, medics, and the all new Siege tanks and Goliaths. Siege tanks looked exactly like your every day tank, at first look. It had too monstrous cannons, tracks, and a heavy chassis. However, the tank concealed a massive weapon that would be deployed for artillery fire, sacrificing the tank's mobility.

As for Goliaths, they looked like giant men, only they had no arms, but their shoulders were loaded with vicious machine guns, and missile launchers. Their head was a long, black cockpit, exactly like a wraith's. In about an hour, all the dropships were nearly full. Feodora was yet to be loaded on a dropship. She had been so excited about going to the north, but now that Rodger was dead, it had no meaning for her.

She avoided Kurt and Josart, for these times were definitely not easy on them either. So she entered a dropship with three Goliaths in it. Before she did, she saw Captain Ray Aureus, Rod's former instructor, shake his head sorrowfully.

A wraith, with the name "CATRINE" on its right wing, remained in the starport when the great transports took off. The fighter jet looked like a child left behind by its parents.

The dropships left the south. Feodora looked back at the city she might not have the chance to see ever again. Secretly, she wished she would not. She did not know why, but ever since she learned Rodger was gone forever, her life seemed pointless. The twinkle in her eyes had disappeared.

"Why did he have to die?" she thought. "Why Rodger Hertubiz? Why? The man who liberated me from the tavern… the man who showed me the world from above… the man who meant everything to me… Why?"

She had only known the marine for about a bit more than a month, and she repeated this sentence in her head as many times as she could, but she knew she would never meet someone like Rod again. She felt tears in her eyes again, as the fleet of dropships flew towards the north, where the Morian sun was rising.

The first step had been an easy one. The siege tanks had deployed their awesome Arclite Shock cannons, their secondary weapon, as soon as they were unloaded from the dropships, and began firing at Zerg forces miles away. Sometimes, a few Hydralisks showed up over the great hills that decorated the north, but, being greatly injured by the devastating shells of the artillery, died in very little time under the bullet storm of the marines and Goliaths.

Feodora could heal marines right when a needle-spine entered their body, like she dreamed all her life: it still felt awkward without Rodger. Under Feodora's and the other medics' helpful treatments, no marines died in the first five hours of the attack. After these five intense hours, the coast was licked clean of Zerg presence. The siege tanks were able to move up more and more towards the center of the northern continent of Moria, with the support of marines, medics and Goliaths. After one hundred and twenty miles of travelling, a few wraiths were sent scouting.

They returned earlier then planned, and two were missing.

"We've been attacked by strange, gooey looking structures! They launched balls of acid spores at us! The Zerg have clearly taken over the north! They made defensive structures unknown to us!"

The Kel-Morian combine's attack force moved up with more caution, and, in the time lapse of a few other hours, the strange anti-air structures were no more. The invasion had lasted nearly a day now, without much resistance from the supposed invincible Talos Brood. As the invaders had built a camp for the night, and most marines were sleeping, a high-pitch scream and several noises resembling the flapping of wings were heard.

A marine who was going to stay up all night to guard noticed a few dots in the dark cerulean sky of the night approaching the camp at a striking speed. The soldier wasted no time. He yelled on the top of his lungs:

"MUTALISKS! WE HAVE MUTALISKS COMING IN!!"

An alarm was sounded in the camp. Feodora was awakened from her uneasy sleep and rushed out of her tent, ready to heal. All soldiers had to sleep in their encounter suits. No chances could be taken. The flock of the twenty flying terrors was getting very close. Mutalisks resembled worms with a horrible mouth with two jagged teeth and a living tongue, a smaller creature. Their great scaly wings were just like a bat's, situated on the front of the Mutalisk's tail, which resembled a scorpion's. Strangely, Mutalisks had no eyes, and they were believed to use the same sonar system as bats to situate themselves.

Although they looked gracious in the sky, everyone knew how deadly they truly were. The Zerg flyers had the ability to launch a deadly green projectile, shaped like a glaive that could hit several targets before wearing off, known as the glaive wurm. Before all humans were armed, the Mutalisks had begun their strike run. Acid fell upon the untenanted siege tanks, and the Kel-Morian combine witnessed in despair the destruction of their artillery. The human army counterattacked with everything they had. Bullets flew in the innocent sky. Goliath missiles' smoke decorated the atmosphere.

"Attack! Attack!" was heard many times in the night. The Mutalisks turned around, unscathed by the attacks of the invaders. They flew over the Goliaths, launching their dreaded projectiles again. The Goliaths, more nimble and quick then the siege tanks were able to avoid their devastation. After that, the Mutalisks were back facing to the Goliaths, and the giant walkers fired their missiles without hesitation. Six of the great flyers were blown into pieces.

Marines' Gauss rifles were hardly able to penetrate the carapace that surrounded the flyer's tough skin. The Mutalisks swooped upon the annoying troopers, releasing the burning wurm once again. The projectile bounced on ten marines before wearing off. Quickly, Feodora got to work; she healed every marine she could as fast as she could, but a few soldiers succumbed to their wounds. More Mutalisks died as more abolishing missiles came upon them. With the combine efforts of twelve marines, three Mutalisks were killed as bullets entered their open mouths. The remaining seven Mutalisks tried to retreat, but by that time, pilots had entered their wraiths and had engaged the flyers in a vicious air-to-air battle. The glaives, not effective against a fast-moving target such as a wraith, were not a match for the treacherous Gemini missiles the fighter jets inflicted upon the retreating monsters.

It rained Mutalisk blood upon the marines.

"The Talos does have some virtue!" declared a marine. "We have lost our artillery! Now we'll have to rely on what we have left."

A tall skinny man, a pilot who had shot down two Mutalisks, who was no other then Captain Aureus, nodded.

"Yes. While I was in the air, I noticed a particularly large dot on the radar. It was far away from here, but I have a feeling that if we reach it, we might find the source of this new Brood. If we destroy it, it might be the end of the Talos."

The next morning, very early, the invaders were on the move once again. The next two weeks passed without the slightest Zerg movement, and the humans got closer and closer to their new objective.


	11. Assimilated

Chapter eleven: Assimilated

While these most violent acts were taking place on Moria's surface, in high orbit, the invisible Protoss warships hovered silently. For two weeks, Rodger had studied the ways of the First-Born with Fenix. He learned how to read the mysterious Protoss symbols, as such, he plunged himself into analysis of the books he could not understand when he first was on the ship. He found them very interesting and increased his knowledge on pretty much everything.

The man was now completely comfortable with Fenix near him. In fact, he felt better when he was alongside the gigantic spider then when he was near Aldaris. For some strange reason, he thought Aldaris hated him, but he knew it was probably only suspicion. One day, the great warrior Fenix, saw that something troubled the man. He approached him with caution.

"Rodger… We have learned many things from each other in these last weeks. However, I sense that something causes dilemma within you. You can trust me, friend."

Of course, the Kel-Morian knew he could. He asked a question he wanted an answer for several months ago.

"Fenix… do you know what T'rgashi means in the Protoss tongue?"

Fenix pondered for a while, not common with this word, but then the headpiece of the spider rose.

"If I can remember, T'rgashi means, "Wicked mind." Why?"

Rod told Fenix everything: his dreams about the great eye, his fears of the death of Feodora, and the time that meteor flew over his head during the Protoss attack and how he heard a voice. Fenix, terrified for a reason Rodger ignored, asked Rodger if Aldaris could examine him. The human did not understand why his new friend requested this, but not wanting to disappoint him, and touched by his concern, agreed.

Aldaris arrived in the room five minutes later.

"Entaro Adun, noble Aldaris." Greeted Rodger.

Aldaris mysteriously did not answer. He moved towards Rodger and looked at him right into the eyes. The yellow eyes brought fear within the human.

"Aldaris!" called Fenix. "We do not know yet! Do not kill him!"

Rodger, confused, called to the Dragoon.

"Kill?? After two weeks, you're going to kill me? Why didn't you just kill me the first day if that was your intention??"

Aldaris backed up a few steps. Fenix then stated:

"Peace, Rodger. We will not harm you. You said you saw the Overmind in your dreams?"

Rodger nodded, also adding that the Overmind had named itself T'rgashi several times during those nights. Aldaris then asked a question of his own.

"Do you recall a little white worm entering your body? In your youth, perhaps?"

Getting more and more confused, Rod did not answer.

"Maybe you do not remember. Follow me." Requested Aldaris.

Rod followed the Judicator across the warship to a door that had never been opened all the while he was amongst the Protoss. On the door, there was a sign that read: "Memory room: no entry." The human and the two Protoss entered the room.

A pleasing surprise awaited Rodger; Zeratul, the Prelate, was already in the room, with the Matriarch.

"Entaro Adun, Raszagal! Entaro Adun, Zeratul!" he called happily.

He noticed something was wrong. Zeratul looked terribly lamented. The Dark Templar walked towards a hovering chair with a cap, sort of like a chair one would see at a hairstylist's, and asked Rodger to sit. The man obeyed. Zeratul then gently placed the cap on top of his human companion's head, and explained:

"This, my friend, is the memory chair. Lost memories can be regained here. If what Fenix has said is correct, if it is true you can hear the Overmind speak…I cannot even tell you how worried I am about you. Now, I want you to think of absolutely nothing. The memory chair will do the rest."

A large screen appeared in front of Rodger, Zeratul, Raszagal, Fenix, and Judicator Aldaris. Suddenly, a black and white image of a young Rodger catching a football and dancing to the touchdown appeared on the screen.

"HEY! I remember this!" exclaimed the excited human. "This is when Kurt and I went to state finals! This is the catch that won us the game!"

The image faded. It changed to the image of a young boy, perhaps three years old, playing in a sandbox.

"There's me again." Said Rodger.

Zeratul walked right up to the screen. He noticed a little white worm was in Rodger's miniature shovel. The worm crawled up Rodger's forearm and burrowed into his skin.

"I…I don't remember this happening!"

Zeratul buried his face in his large hands. Fenix let his mechanical legs collapse and fell to the ground loudly. Raszagal shook her head in despair.

Aldaris, the Judicator, was more direct. He shouted:

"Dreaded Zerg creature! You were assimilated into the swarm! That is why you can hear T'rgashi talk! Because you are one of his minions!"

Aldaris, armed with psionic blades, the same weapon the Zealots had employed against Rodger's team upon Moria, charged at the bewildered human.

"NO!!!" roared Fenix, as he leapt in front of the marine.

Aldaris pulled back his blades, decorated with a strange symbol shaped like a star, angered.

"Back off, Fenix! Let me cut this one through its tainted throat! We were wrong to bring "it" here at the first place!"

Raszagal, who did not speak since Rodger's arrival in the memory room, moved forward.

"Lower your weapons, Judicator. Rodger Hertubiz is no immediate harm to us at the moment. Remember, it took over two centuries for the peaceful slothian to be transformed into the nightmarish Hydralisks. It could be the same case for Rodger."

Not believing his comrades, Aldaris backed up quickly, turned his back to the group, and prepared to leave the room. As the door opened, he turned around and yelled:

"Damn you, Rodger Hertubiz! You will be the death of us all!"

Then he disappeared. Zeratul approached Rodger and grabbed him by the shoulders amicably.

"Old friend… would this ever come to pass."

The human, on the edge of tears, murmured:

"It… It can't be true…"

"I'm afraid it is, Rodger. Fear not. You won't feel any different until a century. It is true you have been assimilated into the Zerg swarm, but we can use that as a weapon. If you can hear the Overmind, it means you can overhear his plans, as well. With you by our side, T'rgashi, as we will now call it, will never be able to catch us off guard again. I find it is more a blessing then anything else."

Zeratul and the Matriarch left the room. On her way out, Raszagal gave Rodger a big hug, and whispered:

"Fear not, child. You are still the First-Born's friend."

The marine was alone with Fenix again.

"I may be of some use now," quoted Rodger, but when I will turn into a dreaded Zerg creature…"

The Dragoon interrupted him.

"That day will not come soon! You will lead us on the fields of Moria tomorrow, and we will destroy the Zerg Cerebrate! This is also your chance to unite human and Protoss! Only you, Rodger Hertubiz can do this! You are a vital part of this operation! The Zerg will not fall if you are not there to fight it!"

Truly touched by his friend's words, Rod hugged one of the Dragoon's imposing legs. Fenix, not understanding the gesture, but comprehending the emotion, accepted the embrace gladly.

"Do me a favour, Fenix?" demanded Rodger.

"Anything for you, my friend."

The marine's request was one Fenix did not anticipate.

"When I start to display Zerg behaviour symptoms… please kill me."

Fenix did not believe he would be able to slaughter his only human friend, so he gave no answer, and the two remained close to each other for many minutes. If he had to do what Rod asked for, the Dragoon knew he would miss this feeling.

The Dragoon felt loved, for the first time since he died as a Zealot.


	12. Assault on Moria

Chapter twelve: Assault on Moria

Rodger looked upon his home world from the great ship. He knew he would have to fight many battles this day, but he knew with Fenix and the Protoss warriors by his side, he could do it. Zeratul and Bur'klok would also join him in the fields of battle. His only worry was that if the Kel-Morian combine would have followed the schedule, it would already be there attacking the Zerg. He knew Emperor Mengsk would be extremely angered at the Protoss, and he was almost sure he would order the combine to destroy any Protoss.

That's why Rod was determined to be in the very front lines so he could call upon the Kel-Morians and tell them to stop…or catch a few bullets to save his new friends. He was taken away from his inattention when the heavy metallic spider entered the room.

"Rodger. It is time."

Rod stood, but he realised there was a small problem: he had dropped his Gauss rifle the day the First-Born had taken him under their wing.

"Fenix, I hate to be the party-pooper, but… I ain't got no gun."

Fenix looked confused.

"Ain't?"

"Don't have a gun, sorry… my Morian friends and I talk in slang like that all the time."

The Dragoon marched towards Rodger and spoke in his vigorous voice.

"I would not let you go into the fields of battle without a weapon, friend. I have asked the Khalai to create a weapon you could wield, for it is impossible for you to use psionic blades. Our Zealots dedicate one hundred years of their lives into mastering the art of the blade. However, you may find this useful."

A large indigo rifle fell to the floor. It looked a lot like a Gauss rifle, but it lacked the kill counter and the aimer. Rodger picked it up, and it was much lighter than his old Gauss rifle, he decided.

"Thank you, Fenix. What is this thing called?"

"It is the only existing Photon Disrupter. It will serve you well."

With those words, the two friends began their march in the halls of the warship. In a hallway, they encountered Bur'klok and Zeratul.

"Entaro Adun, Zeratul. Entaro Adun, Bur'kolk."

The Zealot looked at the marine aggressively with his flashing blue eyes.

"Bur'klok."

The Prelate of the Dark Templar stepped towards the human.

"If ever you hear T'rgashi speak, let me know. I will be at your side until death."

"As will I!" bellowed Fenix.

"Entaro Aiur! I will not let you down either, little one!" Bur'klok added.

The little group departed towards the loading area where already, dozens of Zealots and Dragoons were being loaded into Protoss shuttles.

"This will be a day to remember. I will get my north back." Thought Rodger.

"We mustn't be undone! FIGHT!!" cried Captain Ray Aureus, while flying his wraith and looking at the battle.

There were many Zerglings and Hydralisks. The good Captain never saw such an amount of Zerg forces in years. It was no use. The Hydralisks were making short work of the Goliaths. There were too many, and the Kel-Morian combine invading force was stranded in a narrow gorge, so they could not hope to flee quickly enough to outrun the deadly Zerglings, being indisputable sprinters. The medics were doing a very good job at curing the wounded marines, but the Zerg had caught on to their tricks and began attacking the medics, which forced them to heal each other as well.

Ray Aureus knew it was a lost battle, but they could not lose! The thing on Ray's radar was in sight! It was a big white worm, surrounded by its own oozy green saliva, and right next to it, a big brain-like creature with a huge eyeball. He counted the remaining forces: Fifty marines, eleven medics, and five Goliaths. It was not an enormous strike team, but he knew if they could get past those vicious Zerg that were blocking them in the gorge, they might be able to defeat the tyrannizing aliens.

There was only one thing left for Ray Aureus to do. He grabbed the control rod for his wraith, made it so he was going straight for the ground, and put the throttle to full power.

"Rodger Hertubiz… if it is true you are dead, I will be with you this day," he murmured.

These were the last of the good captain's words, for he drove his wraith into the Zerg forces that kept pouring into the gorge. The incredible amount of gasoline stored within the wraith caused a formidable explosion. When the smoke and fire dissipated, hundreds of toasted Zerg carcasses were seen, around the rubble of a fighter jet. Ray Aureus had sacrificed himself, but it might have been unnecessary, for several strange looking blue and yellow ships were making their way to the ground, where no guards stood…

Feodora could not believe it. Captain Ray, a great leader of the Academy where Kurt, Josart and Rodger had been to, was dead. He had killed himself killing hundreds of Zerg. She knew Aureus' name would always be recited in respect. Kurt Belek, whom she had healed during the entire battle, helped her and pulled a needle spine out of his knee while she sprayed instant pain reliever on it. Kurt, taking command, shouted:

"CHARGE!"

The order was clear, and soon, the remaining marines sprinted towards the heart of the Zerg base. Elite Hydralisks that aimed perfectly pinned their spikes right through the marines' heads and killed several marines during the charge. The Kel-Morians did not give up. They shot their rifles left and right, up and down, even at Overlords patrolling the area. The Goliaths' missiles cut down the lumbering flyers with relative ease. Bullets flew. Missiles pierced through Overlord skin. Health needles and instant pain relievers were used.

Josart, alongside Kurt, had had treatment from medics too, but not from Feodora. He refused to receive healing from her. There was only one sunken colony left to defend the strange white worm. Sunken colonies looked like piles of skin with spikes coming out of them, and they were almost shaped like a star. These colonies were capable of launching snake-like tendrils into the soil. These tendrils were extremely sharp and could impale almost anything it hit.

"Press the attack!" roared Belek, followed by Jo.

The colony was under a bullet barrage. The bullets were cutting through the skin of the colony, and causing it to bleed, for even Zerg structures and buildings were alive. The sunken colony impaled a marine, than another, than another. The tendrils caused too much damage for medics to heal, for these snake like tentacles went right through a marine, from the groin to the brain. Soon, the colony exploded into a pile of blood. There were too many marines for it to handle.

Before any soldier from the Kel-Morian combine could cry out victory, Overlords swooped in from the west, and unloaded several Hydralisks into the foundation area. Apparently, these Hydralisks came from a different base. The marines braced themselves, for they were greatly outnumbered once again.

"Entaro Adun! Entaro Tassadar!" chanted Rodger.

The Kel-Morian combine had done an excellent job getting this far, but Rodger knew it was the end of the line for them if those Hydralisks got in range. He charged forward, Bur'klok way ahead of him, Fenix to his left, and Zeratul to his right. He never saw a Dragoon in battle before, but he saw a sphere of blue light lobbed many feet into the sky and vaporized a Hydralisk from a great distance. The shot came from Fenix, with his great accuracy.

The Protoss Zealots formed a protective shield around the Kel-Morians and cut through the opposing ranks. Rod looked at the marines and smiled. Surely, they were breaking Acturus Mengsk's order, but they fought with the Protoss. When the Zealots' shields were penetrated, medics would rush to their aid, for they weren't too different from men. As for Rodger, he shot his new weapon and saw miniature copies of Fenix's projectile fire more rapidly and in a straight line. It had awesome firepower compared to the Gauss rifle, for in less then twenty seconds, three Hydralisk's had already fallen to the Photon Discharger.

Rodger looked around to see how his friends were faring. Fenix had lept upon a Zergling and was crushing it with his great spidery legs, while Bur'klok was mercilessly chopping down the Hydralisks' rank. That's when he noticed the big white worm.

"Zeratul! The Cerebrate!"

The Prelate did not need any more specifications; he unsheathed his Warp Blade, a Dark Templar weapon of indescribable power and turned invisible. He ran towards the Cerebrate and leapt on its head, avoiding a vicious bite.

"Entaro Hertubiz!!" he cried as he sank the blade deeply into the Cerebrate's head.

He pulled it out quickly, examined the brain juice that had glued to his Warp Blade, and listened to the creature's deep cry as it passed into death. Blood gushed out of its wound and soaked Zeratul's beautiful scarlet cloak. The creature's head fell, and never rose. A few meters away, Rodger had seen the spectacle. He cheered on his friend, but got a splitting headache; T'rgashi was speaking.

"I had a feeling you'd come, Rodger Hertubiz of the Kel-Morian combine. You became allies with the First-Born. I am impressed. You've won your pathetic home world, but do not think you've won the war."

Rod ran towards Zeratul and repeated what the Overmind had told him. The Overmind itself, not far away from the slain Cerebrate, began to turn into a black ball. Willing to destroy it more than anything else, the marine opened fire upon the Overmind.

"Do not make me laugh. No normal weapons can damage me. Only the Xel'Naga have what it takes to slay T'rgashi, but the Xel'Naga are all dead, marine."

The malevolent laugh was heard, and the Overmind, now a scorching black ball of flame, launched itself into space. Fenix shot it three times while it was leaving the atmosphere, but nothing could slow down T'rgashi's course.

"I will call our fleet and order them to destroy it!" proposed Zeratul.

"It's useless," stated Rodger. "T'rgashi just told me. Only a Xel'Nagian weapon could destroy it. We have no Xel'Nagian arsenal."

Zeratul rubbed his chin, thinking deeply. The olive-eyed man scanned around. The remaining Talos forces had frozen into place. Wondering if the death of the Cerebrate really did disable all of the Zerg's senses, he stepped towards a paralysed Hydralisk and spat in its face. The creature just looked at Rodger, smiling. The man continued his harassment towards the immobile beast. He started to sing,

"Jingle bells". "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the wayyyyy! Oh what fun, it is to ride, in a one-horse opened sleigh, hey! Common, Hydra-boy, sing it with me!"

To Rod's horror, he heard a fluid voice repeat:

"Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the wayyyy!"

"WHAT THE HELL!! Zeratul, check this out!"

The Dark Templar approached.

"What is it?"

Rodger, barely able to control his excitement, said:

"Look! I can control it! Hey, Hydra-boy! What's your name?"

The Hydralisk shook his head left and right, not having a name, but instead of not replying, he improvised:

"Trikko."

Zeratul burst out in a deep, sinister laugh.

"Trikko! Say hello to Zeratul!"

"Hello, Zeratul."

Rod and Zeratul were literally over each other, laughing so hard. The playtime was over, for Fenix ran towards them and said:

"Rodger, your Kel-Morian combine is becoming hostile towards the sons of Aiur! A tall, bright-eyed man has ordered us to leave this planet right now, or they will fight us."

A tall, bright-eyed man; it could only be Kurt. Rod, followed by Fenix and Zeratul, jogged towards where Kurt seemed to be in a deep discussion with Bur'klok.

"Leave. Now. We thank you for our help, but he had strict orders to terminate any non-human presence. We didn't open fire upon you because you saved our lives, so we're letting you off."

Bur'klok shook his head in frustration, not believing how unappreciative these humans were.

"Kurt! Kurt!" A familiar voice called the debater.

Belek turned around to face one of his oldest friends, and alive. Kurt dropped his rifle and fell to his knees.

"R…Rodger!! You son of a bitch…"

Rodger laughed and shook hands with Kurt, after the two had exchanged a playful hug. Another voice was heard into the attack squadron of marines:

"RODDY-BOYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"

Josart had leapt upon Rod and shoved him to the ground.

"You're alive!! H…How??"

Rodger kindly shoved Jo aside and stood up.

"Fellow soldiers of the Kel-Morian combine, you probably remember me. I am Rodger Hertubiz, apparently dead from the last patrol. I come to you today to assure you that that is a lie. These aliens are the Protoss, the First-Born, and they have taken me under their wing. Because of them, we are all alive today. Because of them, we have dominated over the Zerg! Because of them, I am a better man! Ladies and gentlemen… I give you… THE SONS OF AIUR!!"

A long ovation roared into the valley where so many frozen Zerg stood.

"We will become your allies, First-Born. Come and meet our Emperor back in the south! He will be honoured to meet you." Asked Kurt.

The strike teams of both races entered their own transports slowly as a satisfied messy-haired marine looked at them.

"I hate you." A female voice called behind him.

It was Feodora, a shocked look in her eye.

"I hate you, Rodger Hertubiz! You get caught in an ambush during a patrol, and yet you're still alive! Do you know what dreadful moments I have passed, thinking you were dead??"

Rodger moved towards the healer woman, unsure if she was being serious or sarcastic. Still oblivious of what to do, the marine simply said:

"I told you, Feo. Friends till the end, no matter what happens. No matter what occurs, I'll be there for you, I'll always come through… and that, you can believe."

Feodora erupted into tears.

"Oh… please, Feodora, don't cry… what's wrong?"

The medic, between two sobs, simply answered:

"I don't know…I don't know how you do it, Rod… but whenever I'm upset at you, you always find a way to make me forgive you!"

"Don't be upset, Feo. I'm here. I'm here for real."

Feodora walked towards the marine who had befriended the Protoss.

"You're here, Rodger… You're here for real… Never leave again."

The olive and emerald orbs met again. Feodora lowered her head, and felt a supportive hand clasp her shoulder. She looked up, and saw a different man. He had the same face, the same eyes, and the same messy hair as Rodger Hertubiz. But his heart was different. The heart of this new Rodger was larger and showed much more. Feodora, knowing no better, slowly approached her head towards Rod's. Rodger did not back up; his headed tilted towards Feodora's as well. He did not feel her tender hands surround the back of his helmet; he was lost in a world of his own.

A world he had never known before. A world that manifested itself only in the connection of a man and a woman's lips, and that was exactly what Rodger was experiencing. The sweet, cherry-like taste of Feodora's lips upon his own was a delight he had never felt. He knew he had just plunged into a brand new world with Feodora.

This world was love.

Feodora was waiting for him in the dropship, because he had to tell Fenix where to find them when they reached the coastal city once again. Fenix, who was not sure where to go, simply decided to take the same dropship as Rodger.

As the now amorous marine walked towards the transport, he heard a growl behind him. It was Trikko, the silly Hydralisk who had followed him.

"What do you want? I ain't got no food."

The next answer came in very unsuspected.

"Trikko doesn't want food. Trikko wants to come with you."

Rodger wondered how was it that just by talking to this usually brainless creature he gave it a mind of its own. He was not sure, but he liked the Hydralisk. The pink stripes around his eyes made him look like Zorro, and his fluid voice, albeit a bit scary was quite soothing.

"Alright, Trikko, come with me. But don't make any noise."

The beast agreed and followed the human into the dropship. At first, Fenix and Feodora were shocked, but when Rodger demonstrated how well behaved it was, and how obedient, they decided it was reasonable. Rod sat next to his new girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek as she giggled.

"Ah, l'amour, l'amour, chanted Fenix in French. "Congratulations on your new unification, my friends."

Feodora, still a bit intimidated by the hulking spider, smiled as a reply.

Trikko, in a corner, observed with great interest as the marine and the medic exchanged yet another kiss.


	13. Allies

Chapter thirteen: Allies

Arcturus Mengsk was not sure what he was getting himself into this time. Defeating the Confederacy to take over the throne, that, Arcturus knew he could do. Trusting aliens who had slaughtered twenty-seven of his men just a few weeks ago, now that seemed simply absurd to him. The report from the invading force told him the Protoss had been the key to the success of the reclaiming of the northern provinces of Moria, but the Emperor of the Koprulu sector was still not sure if they could be trusted.

He was in a dropship, heading towards the Protoss warship, escorted by a dozen wraiths. Quickly, Mengsk suited himself with his imposing imperial teal coat and cleared his throat. He suddenly felt nervous, for the transport had docked with the great ship, and the door was opening. For the first time in his life, Arcturus saw a Protoss. It was not particularly friendly looking, with its great yellow eyes, its navy skin and imposing height. It moved forward, and the Emperor heard a voice in his head:

"Greetings, Emperor Mengsk. You can believe the sons of Aiur are honoured to have you here. I am Judicator Aldaris. Please, come with me. The Matriarch, fortitude and wisdom of my people, awaits you."

Arcturus followed Aldaris through the magnificent halls of the great ship. In all his lifetime, never had the great politician seen something of such grace and perfection. Crystals were built-in every now and then within the walls of the yellow hallways. Aldaris took Arcturus towards a great room where the door opened automatically. The Judicator made a gesture inviting the human to enter the room.

"I will remain here. I shall let the Matriarch and yourself have your privacy."

Mengsk then found the courage to speak to the Protoss.

"Thank you very much, Aldaris. A pleasure to meet one such as yourself."

Arcturus entered the room, as requested, and the door shut itself robotically. Aldaris, behind the closed door, thought maybe he misjudged the humans. Of course, some were assimilated into the Zerg swarm, such as that cursed Rodger Hertubiz, but perhaps it was not the case for others. He thought about it for a while, but when he walked away towards the council room, he felt the same feeling he had initially towards the humans: resentment.

Arcturus looked inside the room. Inside was another dark-faced Protoss, only this one was female, and at her side, another Protoss with a white face and glowing orange eyes, but he seemed to be very reverential to his presence.

The Protoss woman spoke, shaking her short oily grey hair left and right.

"I am Raszagal, Matriarch of the Dark Templar, and I welcome you aboard the Ganthritor, pride of the Templar's great fleets. I implore you, Emperor, have a seat."

Mengsk, moved by the Matriarch's sincerity and politeness sat in a very comfortable hovering chair. He tightened his hands together, put them on the beautifully carved table and stated:

"Before we begin, Raszagal of the Dark Templar, I ask you: How is it this Ganthritor was in orbit around Moria all this time without the council knowing? Our sensors would of normally picked your signals up as soon as you would have approached Moria."

Raszagal knew that this troubled the human, so quickly she answered:

"Our warships have the ability to vanish, becoming invisible to the naked eye as well as proximity sensors, so long as they stay immobile."

Emperor Mengsk understood, as he heedlessly scratched his beard, but then proceeded in his discussion.

"I understand you Protoss have came to the north of the planet with the same goal as the Kel-Morian combine had: to destroy the Talos Brood. Without the presence of your warriors, it is likely, almost certain, that Moria would have failed its attack. You have my gratitude, Matriarch. Due to your assistance, Moria is cleansed of the Talos forever."

Raszagal bowed her head appreciatively, welcoming the Emperor's words with glee.

"However," continued Arcturus, "I do have a question. A few weeks ago, perhaps a month ago, your forces laid waste to a scouting division of marines the combine had sent to investigate Zerg presence in the southern coast. What are your motives for these actions?"

Raszagal shook her head.

"This was not the Protoss' will. Judicator Aldaris, sensing that your people could be a danger to the First-Born, ordered the slaughter of your men, and for that we apologize. Judicator Aldaris is a fanatic at times. Unfortunately, Aldaris is right about one thing; it is true some of your men have been assimilated into the Zerg swarm, and in only a few centuries, your worlds will be crawling with catastrophic humanoid Zerg terrors. This means we have but a few centuries to take action against the heart and mind of the Zerg; the Overmind itself."

Arcturus had never heard about the Overmind. He knew about Cerebrates ever since the attack in the north, but the term "Overmind" had never came up before. With her great psychic powers, Raszagal sensed his confusion and clarified:

"The Overmind dictates control of all Zerg forces. If it is destroyed, we believe the Zerg Broods would be completely destroyed."

"And if they are not destroyed?" asked Mengsk.

"If they are not destroyed… then Adun help us all."

Arcturus felt the Matriarch's sorrow, and he rose from his seat, walked towards the elderly Protoss and placed a hand upon her shoulder, a gesture the orange-eyed character seem to approve of. Raszagal looked at the human with her round golden eyes and felt trust flow through him. Arcturus, too, sensed that a great union would be formed between Protoss and humanity.

"I propose an alliance, Matriarch. I suggest that humans and Protoss unite against the ravenous Zerg and their dreaded Overmind. My troops will fight alongside yours, if you agree. If what you say is true, I do not want to see my worlds infested with foul Zerg creatures. Besides, the Zerg have already caused us enough trouble. It's time to put an end to all of this."

Raszagal knew that the First-Born and humanity fought exceptionally well together, having proven their power together on Moria.

"You are very sincere, Arcturus Mengsk. I have faith in you. The First-Born accepts your alliance."

The Emperor smiled his flattering grin and said:

"Great! Now, most humans didn't meet the First-Born just yet, and I invite you, Raszagal, as well as all your warriors to a feast tonight in the capital city of Moria, Argoton, where the great transport, the Argo, crashed. There will be food, dances, and books for your people to learn more about mine. It will be a night to remember. We'll expect you around ten."

After this statement, Mengsk bowed down to Raszagal and stepped outside the room. The Matriarch did a mystical gesture, surely signifying goodbye in the Protoss ways. Zeratul, who had not said a word since the Emperor walked in the room, whispered in his leader's ear:

"Do you think Mengsk is to be trusted? He controls a grand army. He could prove to be dangerous should he betray us."

Raszagal looked at her bodyguard and replied:

"I trust Arcturus with my heart and soul. Arcturus will not betray us, I assure you. Would Rodger betray us?"

Zeratul, having developed a great bond with the marine, answered:

"No, certainly not! Rodger has a heart of gold and a will of iron! His loyalty to us is like Titanium steel!"

"I know. I never suspected any treachery from him. As such, feel not afraid of Arcturus. Just because he holds an important place in the human council does not make his heart smaller."

Fascinated, the Prelate of the Dark Templar mumbled:

"Indeed. Matriarch, your wisdom never ceases to grow."

Before Raszagal could speak a response, the door opened and Aldaris entered the room.

"Emperor Mengsk is gone already? I would have thought he would have stayed for longer among us. Perhaps our presence frightened him, and being afraid, he will grow aggressive. He may turn against us."

"Stop your misanthropies, Aldaris. Arcturus is a fine man. Where is your faith, Judicator?"

Aldaris shot back an answer in no time.

"My faith is with the Khala, and the one who brought it in existence. Beings who do not follow the Khala are blasphemous and should not be trusted. You put far too much trust into these humans, Matriarch. What are they as such to we? Was it not we who vanquished the dreaded Zerg Cerebrate?"

Zeratul moved forward and gently grabbed the Judicator's shoulders.

"Yes, Aldaris, we did defeat the Cerebrate, but we did so with the aid of humans. Do not be so quick to underestimate them."

Aldaris calmed himself fairly quickly. He retorted:

"Of course, Zeratul. Please forgive my lack of tolerance, Prelate. You as well, Matriarch."

Quickly the Judicator turned around and left the room, leaving the two Dark Templars alone. However, Zeratul and Raszagal could not see that the unforgiving Protoss was snickering. Aldaris walked quickly towards his own room of the Ganthritor, thinking:

"The humans can never be trusted! WE rescued THEM on Moria! Had the First-Born not showed itself, the pathetic humans would have been torn apart, piece-by-piece, like they deserved. The Protoss cannot trust something that does not follow the Khala. The Protoss cannot trust a leader that trusts humanity, which does not follow the Khala. New leaders will come to the Protoss council. The Matriarch is growing old, having recently celebrated her one thousandth and fifth birthday. She will be replaced by someone else who will chase away the humans, no matter the cost."

With these thoughts in mind, Aldaris erupted into a most reluctant laughter, which sounded many times in the spotless halls of the Ganthritor.

"Where is she? I wanna see her! C'mon, C'mon, C'mon!!" An overexcited marine asked his girlfriend.

Feodora took Rodger's hand, all the while smiling. She ran across the starport, holding Rod's hand tightly. They reached a docking bay, and there was a docked wraith. Rodger got emotional, as he saw the word "CATRINE" on its wing again. Quickly, he thrust himself upon the medic to kiss her, and then he ran towards his fighter ship.

"Oh, my babyyyyyyy!! I missed you so much!"

A rough voice was heard in the shadows as Rodger climbed the ladder to be inside the ship's cockpit.

"Rodger, you never told me you flew a ship."

A Dragoon advanced into sight from the shade the dark night was providing.

"Fenix? Where have you been?" asked Feodora.

"I was following your pet, making sure he wasn't doing anything stupid."

The young man who was sitting in a wraith's open cockpit looked perplexed: "Pet? I don't have a pet."

"Trikko thought Trikko was your pet…" a slimy voice called behind Fenix.

A Hydralisk with pink stripes around its eyes moved forward. Feodora screeched in terror.

"Feodora, don't yell! It's only Trikko."

The Zerg beast slithered on its snaky tail, and got right in front of Catrine so he could look at Rodger right into the eyes.

"Is Trikko not your pet?"

The pilot would have never expected this. Back in the north, Rod only agreed the Hydralisk could follow him back to the south. He never said anything about a pet.

"Trikko… I'm sorry, I'm not too much of a pet person."

Then something happened that neither the humans nor the Dragoon could have expected. Trikko buried his head in his muscular arms and everyone heard a devastating wail. The Hydralisk turned around to leave. Trikko did not go very far, for Feodora called him by name.

"Trikko, don't leave! Rodger, please, keep him. He's so lonely. I'll bet he's the only Zerg creature to have a mind of its own."

Rodger crossed his arms grudgingly. A Zerg Hydralisk as a pet? This sounded absurd. He looked at his girlfriend, but he saw that she looked like she felt pity towards Trikko. The last thing he wanted to see was the medic in a sad mood, and maybe a Hydralisk would make a fine pet.

"All right, Trikko," shrugged Rodger. "I'll keep you. You won't fit in our quarters, though. I'm already sharing the place with Kurt and Josart, and they sure won't like you."

Trikko lowered his head.

"Trikko will sleep outside, here with the plane."

Feodora, forgetting all fear, moved close to the Hydralisk and kissed it on top of its head.

"Look at him, Rodger. He's so cute!"

Rodger leapt away from Catrine and landed on the hard floor. He got close to Trikko and his love and held them both close.

"What a trio we make… a marine-pilot, a medic, and a Hydralisk."

Fenix moved close to the three as well, and proposed:

"Rodger, I greatly suggest you put some sort of identification on your pet so the humans will not mistake him for a murderous killer."

The marine agreed, and he said he'd make one right away. He walked towards a tree and began cutting a piece of it with his Swiss army knife. A skilled carver, Rodger engraved a large wooden "T" and set in on a thin rope. He then put the necklace around Trikko's neck.

"Not bad!" acclaimed Fenix.

"Thank you for deciding to keep Trikko." The Hydralisk said.

Rodger smiled. It could talk, and it brought his girlfriend happiness. It was the ultimate pet. He was glad of his decision.

Two hours later, the feast began in the Argo's courtyard. It was a sight to see. Men and Protoss were clanging glasses together, laughing without a care in the world. Peach skin found itself mixed with several different skin colours, from bright white to brownish red. Food littered each table. What variations! There was chicken, beef, fresh Morian grown vegetables, carrot-cake, seasoned rice, and all sorts of delicious human foods.

The Protoss had brought some of their victuals from the Ganthritor as well. There was Morango, an orange fruit that grew abundantly on Shakuras, home world of the Dark Templar. It tasted like human oranges; only it was a bit more piquant. Most distinguishingly, the fruit was about nine feet long, as such could feed an army. In fact, often Zealots far away from home in the fields of war would live off Morangoes. The First-Born also brought Kakaru meat, very spicy and tender, as well as their renowned fluorescent drinks.

Everyone was enjoying the food peacefully until a loud cry was heard.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!"

It was Rodger Hertubiz and Feodora Martexy, both riding a Hydralisk. Some marines went for their weapons at the sight of the creature, but when they saw how inoffensive it was towards its riders, and when they noticed the big wooden "T", they calmed down.

The pilot unsaddled, and prepared a plate of Kakaru meat for Trikko. Trikko ate with gratitude, and decided to remain at Fenix's side. The Dragoon, who had followed the Zerg beast, was a bit annoyed by the Hydralisk's constant presence around him, but he knew it was necessary. Besides, it was the first time Fenix could be so close to one of the creatures without worrying about it. How did Rodger got it to make it think was a mystery to the great warrior, but he decided that he and his human friend would go speak to the Matriarch the day following the feast, for she would surely have an answer to this secrecy. Fenix found some Zealots he knew, like Bur'klok, and began a conversation about the latest victory.

Rodger and Feodora were eating at a table with Kurt and Josart.

"Mmm, this is great. Dude man, you gotta try some of this Morango."

Rod decided to try some and was blown away by the great taste of the fruit. He then allowed himself to feed a little bit of it to Feodora, who also thought the taste to be very fine. The couple was laughing, and in a close cuddle. This sight was most unpleasant to Josart, who had not said a word ever since Feodora came to their table. It was already bad enough when Rodger spent an insane amount of time with her as her friend, but now he would be forced to watch them display their affection for each other constantly. He took a bite of his carrot-cake and looked unhappy. He would plot something to make them break up. He had to. Jo was not sure why, he truly felt bitter towards the medic.

Not far away from Fenix and his companions, Zeratul was enjoying a Magluka drink all alone. The Prelate was happy. The humans and Protoss would become great friends, unlike the pessimistic Aldaris thought. He wondered why was it Aldaris was so rude to the humans. As he pondered the possibilities by rubbing his chin, Arcturus Mengsk, the human Emperor walked by and saluted him. Zeratul returned the greeting.

"Entaro Tassadar, Arcturus. Do you address me?"

Mengsk looked at the carroty eyes, coughed to shake off his nervousness and said:

"Do you know when is it the Matriarch will descend upon Moria?"

Zeratul rubbed his chin again to think.

"Raszagal should already be here… ah! But here she comes now, in the company of Judicator Aldaris."

Raszagal walked around in a jewelled cerulean dress, alongside Aldaris, who had not changed his Judicator clothes. The Emperor smiled as the Matriarch approached him. Aldaris, for an unknown reason, steered away and went towards the food table to help himself. The Protoss had an unusual way of eating, for they had no mouth. They would simply stare at their food, the taste would come to them and without warning the food would disappear, entirely consumed.

Raszagal and Arcturus began talking about the perils of leading a nation, until musicians began playing violins and acoustic guitars.

"Do you dance, dignified Matriarch?" asked the Emperor.

Raszagal chuckled and answered:

"I am a bit aged for dancing, Arcturus, but you go on ahead. I believe I have lost all my skills."

"Nonsense! One can never be too old to dance!" he seized Raszagal' hand and took her on the dance floor.

"Oooh! Rod, I love this song! Would you like to dance?" asked Feodora.

Rodger was not much of a dancer, but he would always try. The young couple walked hand in hand towards the dance floor, and the marine wrapped his arms around the medic's waist as she put her arms around the young man's neck. There, they danced, happily embraced.

"Oh, kick me in the nuts… tell me I'm not seeing what I think I think I'm seeing!" mumbled Rodger.

Feodora, confused, giggled and asked her lover what was going on. He, in response, simply pointed at the left. Feodora looked behind her and let out a little gasp of awe: Arcturus Mengsk was dancing with the old Matriarch of the Dark Templar. It was something neither of the younger humans expected, but they saw a wide smile on the Emperor's face and Raszagal's glowing eyes made her seem much younger. Meanwhile, Josart was having another drink, glowering at his friend and that accursed medic. Ever second he wished she'd fall on her face and died.

He then saw the adopted Hydralisk join in the dance floor, sliding and going in circles around the couple. The two laughed and patted Trikko on the head. Jo got scared, for breaking the couple would be harder with that monster around. He gulped the remainder of his drink, without noticing there was a navy skinned Protoss approaching him.

"Entaro Adun."

"Entaro Adoun to you also… who are you?"

The Protoss introduced himself.

"I am Judicator Aldaris, of the Protoss council. I can feel your resentment towards that woman, there, dancing with Rodger Hertubiz."

Josart looked at Aldaris, confused. How could he know? He was not sure, but he knew the Judicator was right.

"If you join me, I can rid you of her for all eternity, and your friend will be all yours again."

The green-haired man was known to act on impulse instead of logic, and not even considering the possibilities, he agreed. He followed Aldaris in the darkness as he exposed his plans to him. Little did the innocent Josart know, Feodora was not the only one targeted in the Judicator's plan. Aldaris wanted Rodger gone as well.

"What ever happened to Ray Aureus?" asked Rodger during the dance.

Feodora, not knowing how to explain the tragic yet heroic action of her boyfriend's instructor, she simply replied:

"He fell on the fields of Moria."

Rod froze, horrified by the news. He knew what was done was done, and there was nothing he could do about it, so he simply held his dance partner closer to him and stroked her flowing blonde hair. In an attempt to change the conversation, Feodora asked Rodger what he was going to do the next day. Rod, feeling a bit better, knowing his Captain obviously died for the right cause, answered that the Matriarch and the Protoss council, as well as Arcturus, would host a meeting upon the Ganthritor. In this reunion, the Matriarch would discuss her plan to destroy the dreaded Zerg Overmind forever. This pleased Rodger, for he wanted T'rgashi dead more than anything else. Maybe he would stop hearing voices in his head, and he may even break free of his assimilation into the swarm… he did not tell Feodora yet. He felt that their relationship was still too young to be disturbed so greatly.

He would have to tell her one-day or another, but that day could wait. For now, all that mattered was that the most beautiful medic of all was in his arms. It would have been a perfect night if Arcturus would not be dancing with Raszagal, because for some reason, the sight was disturbing to Rodger.


	14. Departure from Moria

Chapter fourteen: Departure from Moria

The meeting took place at the appointed time. Feodora could not attend, for Rodger was now considered an important member of the Protoss council, being responsible for the union between the First-Born and humanity. In the meeting room, there was Aldaris, Raszagal, Rodger, Arcturus, Zeratul, and Fenix.

"Noble Rodger Hertubiz, are you certain T'rgashi spoke those words?" asked the Matriarch.

"Absolutely. T'rgashi told me that only a Xel'Naga weapon can destroy him. Do we have any Xel'Nagian weapons?"

The most war-literate of the council, Fenix, answered the question.

"No. We have several tomes that brought us great knowledge, but the Xel'Naga were not a fighting tribe. They brought no weapons of any kind upon Aiur."

Arcturus Mengsk, a bit alarmed by this situation, began speaking very quickly.

"If we have no weapons to defeat the… T'rgashi, we are not in a good position. Raszagal, what do you suggest?"

The Matriarch looked upon the human Emperor, the formidable dancer, and searched her mind for facts that may prove useful for the united humans and Protoss. After a few minutes of silence, her echoic voice was heard:

"There is a legend about two crystals that were separated because of their undeniable unified power, the Uraj, and the Khalis. The Xel'Naga had apparently used these crystals together to create the Zerg. If my calculations are correct, if we can unify these crystals while being close enough to the Overmind, it will cease to exist, being "undone"."

Rodger rubbed his hair and declared:

"If I understand, we're sort of pretending to be the Xel'Naga."

"Exactly," resumed the Matriarch. "Unfortunately, we are not in the possession of either of the crystals, and we will have to find them."

Aldaris rose from his chair:

"I disagree, Matriarch! I, Aldaris, am in possession of the Khalis. I have found it upon Aiur when we had to flee from the Zerg domination. The Khalis is currently in my own room in this very ship. All we must do is find the Uraj."

The entire council cheered at this news. Rod went to shake Aldaris' hand, but Aldaris gave him a stare and the pilot retreated to his own seat.

"In a week, we will depart from Moria and search for the Uraj."

The council agreed to this proposition.

"Dismissed." Concluded Raszagal.

Aldaris and Fenix left the room from different doors, but as Raszagal was about to abscond as well, Zeratul elbowed Rodger to remind him about something they had to talk about.

"Matriarch, I must talk to you." Said the pilot.

The leader of the Dark Templar sat down in her chair, and Arcturus stood next to her.

"You may leave, my good Emperor." Murmured a puzzled Rodger.

Mengsk, firm and unalterable, growled:

"I am the Emperor. I have no orders to take from you, Private. Whatever it is you have to say to Raszagal, I believe I am allowed to hear it as well."

The Matriarch chuckled at Arcturus, and said:

"Do not be so cold-hearted, my dear Arcturus."

Rodger thought he was going to barf.

"My dear Arcturus??? What's next, honey-bunny?" thought the marine.

"Speak your mind, child." Continued Raszagal.

Zeratul thought it would be right if he spoke first.

"After I slew the Cerebrate on Moria, all of the Zerg forces became static. They just stood there, but Rodger came next to a Hydralisk and asked it to sing with him. To our surprise, the creature obeyed, and after a few instants of idiocy, the Hydralisk developed a mind of its own."

Rodger nodded his head during the Prelate's dialogue.

"It followed me back to the south. It even gave itself a name! Do you think the fact that I've been assimilated into the swarm has anything to do with this?"

Raszagal had the same opinion.

"Yes. Perhaps T'rgashi had something special planned for the humans, giving you controlling powers much like an Overlord's. Humanoid Zerg may turn out to be much more powerful than we thought."

Rodger sighed; he looked around for Fenix, but the Dragoon had left the room. If he was to become so powerful and so dangerous, he really wanted Fenix to put an end to it.

"That's all I had to say, Matriarch."

The queen of the Dark Templar dismissed everyone, and she and Arcturus left the room side by side. Zeratul and Rodger departed as well.

"Oh dear…" mumbled Raszagal.

Arcturus looked at her and asked her what was the problem.

"I forgot my cape in the council room. Stay here, Arcturus, I'll be right back."

The Emperor watched the Matriarch walk where they had come from. He leaned against a wall and wondered about the upcoming assault against the Overmind. Surely it would not be anything easy. Mengsk grabbed his ultra-ranged cell phone and dialled General Edmund Duke's number.

"Duke? Yes, it's me, Arcturus. Call Tarsonis. Tell them to build us a fleet of Battlecruisers. Yes, that's right, Battlecruisers. There's going to be a bloody conflict quite soon, and we'll need all the firepower we need."

Raszagal entered the conference area once again, and looked everywhere for her elegant red cape, but could not find it. She looked under the table, on her hovering chair, and in everyone else's hovering chairs as well. An accusing voice made her hop.

"Have you lost something, Matriarch?"

It was Aldaris, who held out her cape to her.

"Thank you, Aldaris. Next time, try not to frighten me so. I almost thought you were a Zerg."

The navy faced Protoss crossed his arms and said:

"Do not worried, I'm not tainted by the foul influence of the second creation of the Xel'Naga. Rodger Hertubiz is, however. I heard everything." He said, caressing his psionic blades, with the star-like symbol incrusted upon them.

Raszagal leered at the Judicator, not believing he still felt hostility towards the human who had been so important on the raid of Moria, and most especially to the alliance between the two races.

"When will you let it go, Aldaris? The boy is no threat to us! He brings hope within us all!"

"But Matriarch! Hertubiz has taken a Hydralisk as a pet! His Zerg abilities continue to grow with each passing day! If we do not stop him now, he will become an enemy unlike any we have ever known! We cannot trust these humans! We have no idea how many of the beings have been assimilated into the swarm!"

Raszagal felt anger fill her mind, and she began yelling at the Judicator:

"Silence, Aldaris! The humans may prove dangerous in the future, but I will not be there to see it! For now, humanity is a valuable ally, and a great associate! Please, be gone! And hope I do not see you for the remainder of this day!"

Fuming, Aldaris disappeared. The respect he felt over the Matriarch in the past had faded away. He knew change had to come. He knew it would come, however, with the aid of his new ally, Josart Lamont. Aldaris would achieve his goals. The First-Born would defeat the Overmind on its own. It was imperative.

The council had made a mistake allowing Rodger to join them. If Rod could hear the Overmind speak, T'rgashi could most certainly hear him talk as well. At that very instant, the Overmind knew what it was the united races planned against him. The Zerg mastermind was a bit worried, for the lesser species had found out its weakness. T'rgashi always had the advantage, however, and having made his forces travel upon a few thousand worlds to find new creatures to consume, he knew the exact location of the Uraj. It stood upon the frozen wasteland of Braxis, an ice-cold planet situated just outside the Koprulu sector. If the Protoss could detect it first, they would reach it in no time, but they could not guess where the Uraj was positioned.

T'rgashi immediately ordered some Overlords carrying troops to set a course for Braxis. The Zerg could not touch the crystal, or it would annihilate them, but they could guard it well. The Overmind congratulated itself on its brilliant plan. He watched his minions depart from Zerus, where he had returned, and waited.

A week later, several troops were onboard the Ganthritor. Protoss and humans alike were walking around in the great passages of the warship. The Ganthritor fascinated most of the men and women who were onboard, for it was beautifully decorated by all sorts of precious gems and foreign metals. The humans had revitalized the warship with food, water, and oxygen. As such, the great flying object would be ready for a long journey. The quest for the Uraj would not be an easy task.

Sitting near a window, Rodger Hertubiz looked at Moria, his home world, alongside Trikko. The pilot had a tear in his eye.

"What's wrong, master?" asked the Hydralisk.

"Nothing… Nothing, my good friend. I just got this funny feeling. Just the fact that I may never see Moria again."

Trikko put his powerful arm around Rod, being very careful not to stab him with one of his great blades.

"Here comes Feodora, Kurt, and Fenix!" Joyfully roared the pilot's pet.

The messy-haired man turned around. First, he welcomed a kiss from Feodora, then happily greeted Kurt, and rubbed the Dragoon's cockpit teasingly.

"Hey Kurt, where's Josart? I haven't talked to him in a while."

The giant marine just shrugged his colossal shoulders and replied:

"I don't know where he is either. My guess is he's with Aldaris. He's been hanging out with him for the entire week."

This was ill news for Rodger, for he really suspected that Aldaris was up to something, and he was also aware that Jo was not fond of Feodora. He snapped out of it and asked Fenix a question.

"Oh, Fenix? Have you done what I asked you?"

The Dragoon stood straight, demonstrating satisfaction and pride.

"Yes, my friend. Your wraith is in the Ganthritor's docking bays."

The healing woman then elbowed her man gently on the chest.

"Hey, you care too much about Catrine! If you keep on doing that, I'm going to get jealous, you know that?"

Olive eyes met emerald ones again, and Rod smoothly kissed the medic on the cheek.

"Don't worry, Feo, you're always my woman. Nobody can replace you."

The group erupted in laughter, even the ever-serious Fenix joined in the cackle. Suddenly, the ship's intercom rang twice, announcing a message, and Bur'klok's voice was heard.

"Entaro Adun, friends. The Ganthritor will now depart from Moria's orbit. Its sensors will be kept on at all times, searching for the Uraj's unique signal. Health and happiness upon you all for the time being of this trip!"

The intercom went off again. Feodora, Rodger and Kurt looked with a mix of despair and fascination as Moria disappeared from their sight, possibly forever.

The next three weeks were the most incredible of Rodger's life. He was nearly always with Feodora, and they never grew further apart; their union was undeniable. He hanged out with Kurt, Fenix, Bur'klok and a lot of his other friends as well. There was no entertainment room in the Ganthritor asides from the gym, where young Protoss warriors could train their minds and bodies, but being together and chatting was all the amusement the happy marine needed.

The only problem with his time upon the warship was that he never saw Josart anymore. He had no idea what Jo could do all alone with Aldaris all the time, but it somewhat worried him. He also noticed that Arcturus Mengsk was much more kinder than he used to be. The usually strict Emperor was almost always in a good mood, now. The reason was unknown to Rodger, but he suspected that Raszagal had something to do with it, for Arcturus and herself would often be seen together, conversing harmoniously.

On some nights, Rodger had dreams about T'rgashi that repeated themselves. During those hours of darkness, Trikko was there for him, and they would chat about the Overmind's tyranny. Trikko knew all about it, and told his master that having a free mind was a much more fulfilling existence. A friendship appeared between the man and the Hydralisk. Happiness was everywhere in the human's life

One night, Feodora and Rodger were alone in the Ganthritor's hallways. Everyone else had gone to bed.

"I wonder where that Uraj is?" murmured Feodora in her boyfriend's ear.

"Wherever it is, we'll find it. We'll find it together. Just think about how beautiful life will be after the Overmind will be destroyed."

Feodora leaned against the man's large shoulder and closed her eyes, clearly imagining the new life. She yawned, though, and Rod could understand why. It was very late in the night, although it was dark all day because of space.

"I'll take you to your room," proposed the chivalrous man. "You need some rest."

The medic looked at him, smiled and shook her head.

"I'll be alright alone. The Protoss would never harm me, I'm not afraid of these hallways. You need some sleep, too, hun," the young woman said, touching Rodger's face with her soft fingers.

"I suppose you're right. Good night, Feo." Said Rod before planting his lips upon Feodora's.

She smiled and walked away. Her room was just a few halls away, while Rodger's was the opposite way. She sighed dreamingly, thinking about the peace and harmony of this time. It would be even better when T'rgashi would be slain, if possible. While dreaming, she did not notice there was a figure in the shadows wielding a strange object. She paid no attention to it, and continued her walk. A whistling sound was heard as a projectile pierced the air.

Feodora froze into place. She looked down at her abdomen, and noticed there was a thin clean hole in it. She breathed heavily for a few seconds before collapsing to the ground. Her emerald eyes became very still as her blood began spilling on the warship's hallway's floor. She did not notice her aggressor drop a pair of psionic blades right next to her; she was too cold to notice anything.


	15. Feodora and the Uraj

Chapter fifteen: Feodora and the Uraj

There was heavy thumping at his door, and he could not understand why. By judging how the great thuds that were repeatedly making his room shake, Rodger could tell it was a Dragoon knocking on his door.

"Fenix? Is that you?"

The rough voice acknowledged to him in a panicking tone.

"Trikko will open the door." The awakening Hydralisk said, moving towards the entrance.

As soon as the door was opened, Fenix stormed inside the room, fright displayed in the abruptness of his actions.

"Rodger! We have trouble!"

The man reached under his bed to grab his Photon Disrupter, but Fenix shook his entire mechanical body left and right, contradicting the use of weapons in this situation.

"There has been a murder in the Ganthritor!"

Incredulous, Rod jumped out of his bed and asked who was the victim. The iron arachnid, hesitating, finally took a deep breath and answered. The reply nearly made the pilot faint.

"Feodora."

Two minutes later, Fenix, Rodger and Trikko arrived at the infirmary where the medic lay on a bed, unthinkably still.

"Feodora!!" exclaimed Rodger as he ran towards her bed.

Kurt stopped him in his dash, and it was only then the human pilot noticed there were many others in the room. He got close to the healing woman and placed a hand on her chest. He sighed of relief: her heart was still beating. Rod let himself fall in a chair and conceal his face with his hands.

"She's lucky to be alive, but she'll probably be in coma for some time."

It was Raszagal who had just spoken, with Arcturus next to her. They were holding hands, but Rodger knew and hoped it was because they were worried.

"I don't understand… who could do such a thing?? Are we not allies?" questioned Rodger.

A short man got behind him and said:

"I don't know, but whoever it was will pay."

The sitting man turned around and saw Josart for the first time in several weeks. He did not believe his friend was sincere in his statement, but he noticed his eyes were really watery. Fenix stepped towards the injured woman's bed and examined her wound.

"Do we have any witnesses or suspects?" asked the spider.

At those words, Zeratul, the Prelate, entered the infirmary, sprinting. He took a glass of water, and then showed the entire room two large forearm bands: psionic blades.

"Look what I have found at the scene of the crime!" The Dark Templar said.

Raszagal snatched the blades and examined them. There was a symbol imprinted upon them, like all psionic blades. The blades were like a sign of identification for the Zealots. The Matriarch owned a large tome containing all of her warriors' symbols. It would be easy to identify the one who was guilty. Raszagal first looked at the emblem on the psi blades carefully. It resembled a hurricane that was beginning to fade.

"Dissipating Hurricane… Zeratul, would you go get my pictogram tome? Be quick. Nobody leaves this room until the culprit is brought to justice."

Zeratul ran out of the room again. He was back in about a minute, with a large black book. Raszagal opened it and searched for the Dissipating Hurricane. Arcturus, looking over her shoulder, was the first to find it. He pointed it out, and the Matriarch looked at the corresponding name.

"The wrongdoer is… Bur'klok!"

The young Zealot, who was inside the infirmary, looked mystified. A yellow-eyed Judicator yelled loudly:

"Traitor! Fenix, Zeratul! Take him away to the ship's prison!"

Bur'klok protested as much as he could, but Fenix and Zeratul grabbed him by each shoulder, lifted him up and set out to imprison him. Rodger leered at the Zealot who was being taken away, but then turned to face his unconscious girlfriend. He gently kissed his own fingers and set them down on Feodora's lips. Then he rose and left the room, rage and despair filling his mind. Trikko followed him; head low, for he too, liked the medic.

Titanium walls and alloy laser bars. The Zealot thought he would be incarcerated forever behind these frightening red bars of light. But why? Bur'klok knew he had done nothing wrong. He had been sleeping soundly until the dreadful event. How could he be guilty? He reckoned those were his psionic blades, but someone must have stolen them from him. And why? Why would someone arrange himself or herself for his imprisonment?

The youthful Protoss could not ask himself any more questions: the door of the main visit area had opened, and Rodger Hertubiz entered the room. He stood only a few inches away from the laser bars. He glowered at the Zealot and accused:

"How could you, Bul'krok?"

"Bur'…"

This time, the marine did not let the Zealot the chance to finish his correction.

"Just shut up! You gravely injured my girl with your damned blades!"

The warrior began to protest again.

"It couldn't have been me! The wound was…"

"SHUT UP, ZEALOT! YOU CAN'T FOOL ANYONE! MAY YOUR ROT IN YOUR PRISON FOR ALL ETERNITY!!"

Rodger, with tears in his eyes, jogged towards the door, but at the last moment, he turned around and added:

"We shook hands, Buk'lok. I trusted you. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Shame on you, betrayer."

Bur'klok called after Rodger for several minutes, hurt deeply, not wanting to lose a human friend, but got no answer. The marine had vanished in the hallways of the Ganthritor.

The pilot had decided to fly in his wraith to calm down. He had asked the Zealot in charge of the docking bay permission to depart from the warship for a few minutes. The Zealot agreed. Alone in Catrine's cockpit, Rodger flew around in outer space. It was the first time he piloted the ship while not in Moria's atmosphere. The vast void of space shot shivers down his spine. It was breathtaking; all the thousands of bright stars in the sky were more visible from the fighter jet then they ever were from the great Protoss warship.

He felt really sorrowed. Feodora, his love, his life, could be on the brink of death. He was so distressed he did not even notice how far he was getting from the Ganthritor. As he soared just around a remarkably large white planet, he remembered the time he had brought Feodora with him in his wraith. The screams she released when he had started going series of acrobatic aerial manoeuvres and smiled weakly. He remembered when she buried her face in his shoulder. What warmth he had felt! As he flew Catrine all alone, all he felt was cold. He had put a small picture of his girlfriend on the ship's cockpit. How she was pretty in that picture, with her bright smile and twinkling eyes! He wished she were with him, body and soul.

Rodger was cut out of his dream by the bleeps and buzzes of Catrine's radar. He had never seen such a signal. It was loud, loud to the point it got annoying. The signal came from the snowy planet below. He covered his ears in frustration for a few seconds, but suddenly a light bulb appeared on top of his head. He realised the noisy indication could only be one thing. The Uraj! The Uraj crystal! Quickly, he took out his planetary guide while switching the wraith to stationary thrusters. In about ten minutes, he had found the planet's name.

It was Braxis, a snow planet that was not controlled by either the humans nor the Protoss. Only a few very cold-resistant creatures lived upon the surface, such as the hulking white Ursadon. Rodger quickly wrote down the coordinates for Braxis' location, and prepared to head back to the Ganthritor. As he set the throttle to full power, he smiled at the picture of Feodora and said:

"I told you, Feo. I told you we would find the Uraj together!"

The trip back to the Protoss shipped seemed twice as short and pleasant.


	16. Looking for Uraj

Chapter sixteen: Looking for Uraj

"The Uraj has been located! The Uraj has been located!"

Several times the announcement was heard through the intercom. Quickly, Raszagal, Arcturus, and several other important ministers, such as Aldaris, rushed to the council room where the event would be clarified. Rodger Hertubiz already stood in the middle of the round room, all excited.

"I swear to you all, I picked up the Uraj's signal! I even recorded a sample! Here!" he said, holding a small portable radio.

The sound the object emitted a high pitch screech, which caused everyone in the room to cover their ears. The Matriarch sat straight after the sound was heard.

"Indeed, such a radio signal could have only come from the Xel'Nagian crystal. Under these dark hours, it is good to know that some optimism can still remain within us. Rodger, once again, you have brought us hope. The Ganthritor will set a course for the cold planet of Braxis right away."

Aldaris, who was nodding his head to each word Raszagal was speaking, marched towards the fortunate marine who had discovered the crystal.

"You may have just made the discovery of the millennium, young soldier. Your courage inspires me. I believe it would be wise if we let the humans handle this operation, while the Protoss will remain on this ship and give you the exact location of the Uraj."

Everyone in the room was shocked. Aldaris, known for his resentment towards humanity, was now laying the core of the operation upon their hands! Flattered, Rodger volunteered to lead the operation.

"Then it shall be so. We will reach Braxis' orbit in about a week, due to the Ganthritor's slower pace. We should use that time to verify our military equipment, as well as get as much rest as possible." Continued the Judicator.

The plan was not disapproved by anyone. Soon, everyone was quietly sleeping, except for the few Zealots that made sure everything from the transports to the weaponry was in perfect shape.

A week later, after a good night of sleep despite the tragic event that had turned the marine's life upside down, Rodger awakened. Quickly he looked outside the window and was glad that everything was going according to plan: the great white world was in view. He leapt out of bed, got himself into his encounter suit and seized his unique weapon. Trikko was already wide-awake and "standing" in front of his master, in all his towering form.

"What are you doing, Tri?"

The Hydralisk lowered its head shyly, wondering if its master was going to accept the proposition he was about to state.

"Trikko wants to come with you. Trikko will be a valuable ally in potent conflict, Trikko swears! Please, take Trikko with you!"

Rod, touched by his pet's affection, smiled warmly and replied:

"Of course you can come. I wouldn't want to let you here, you mindless murderer," said the man jokingly. "I wouldn't want to let you here all alone with the Protoss. I don't think they trust you yet. It's a work in progress though. Come on, it's time to go."

The independent Zerg followed his gentle master with his extraterrestrial smile. He was now assured he had gained Rodger's respect and trust. This operation would only tighten the bond that was formed between them. Trikko was certain of it. Before the two set out, there was one last task Rodger had to accomplish.

He entered the infirmary with Trikko just behind him, and to their surprise, Raszagal was sitting down on a chair near Feodora. She had a peaceful look in her round, yellow eyes.

"Matriarch," said Rodger, before grabbing a chair and sitting next to her, "what are you doing here at such a crucial time? Shouldn't you getting to ready to brief us on our mission before we depart?"

The Protoss woman turned to gaze at Rod and said:

"Maybe so, Rodger. I was hoping you would come."

The man smiled wearily, and replied:

"I came to say goodbye to Feodora," he said, putting his large hand on the medic's icy cold brow, "I don't know what horrors await my comrades and I on Braxis. The Zerg surely didn't follow us out here, otherwise we would've known, but I'm still not too comfortable about landing on that frozen wasteland. If anything happens to me, I want you to tell her I love her very much and that I will wait for her in the next life. Oh, I also brought this…"

The marine took a pause to slide a silver necklace with green glimmering stones around the unconscious woman's neck. The object surprised the Raszagal, for it could only be of Protoss origin.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

Laughing softly at the accusing tone in Raszagal's voice, Rodger answered quickly:

"I made it. Fenix provided me with the materials. Apparently, when he was still a Zealot, Fenix was a skilled craftsman and worked at a forge while not serving in the fields as a warrior. He directed me through every step of the making of this necklace. I find it lovely," he stopped for a second to point at the green stones that decorated the jewellery, "see? It's emerald. It matches her eyes perfectly… at least I hope it does. See, Raszagal, I can't tell… her eyes have been closed for nearly a week…"

The Matriarch understood the man's pain, and assured him as long as she would live, she would keep a thorough watch over the young woman to make sure nothing harmful would occur to worsen her health. She also showed him that the room contained a radio that recorded each and every visitor's visit. The human felt reassured, and he knew that his girlfriend was in good hands. The door to the infirmary opened and a big metallic spider entered the room.

"Rodger, Matriarch… it is time."

The two sitting companions stood up, and the man immediately said:

"Can Trikko come with us on the quest for the Uraj?"

The Hydralisk smiled widely at Fenix. Rodger had already demonstrated his control over the creature, and Trikko had done nothing wrong during his entire stay or during the human feast where so many important leaders were extremely vulnerable. Fenix, being a warrior for the Protoss cause, had no respect for the Hydralisks. He had slaughtered plenty of them in battle and would gladly slay this one as well. He knew, however, that Rodger had built a strong bond with the Zerg individual, and being the marine's friend, he would never harm his friend's friend.

The great spider took a deep breath and allowed Trikko to join him on the mission. After a few words of thanks from the fluid Zerg voice, the four left the infirmary. The pilot looked back at the cold woman and whispered under his breath:

"Goodbye my darling love."

Shortly after, the small group reached the Ganthritor's docking bay, where several marines were waiting, because Aldaris decided the operation would be in human hands. Raszagal raised her voice in order to get the scurrying men's attention. A strong hand then handed her a microphone from behind her shoulder. The Matriarch turned to see Arcturus Mengsk with his charming bright smile.

"What is this device, my dear Arcturus?"

The human Emperor gently took the small black tube from the Protoss woman and pushed a button. A small red light appeared, and he gave the microphone back to Raszagal.

"It's called a microphone. Talk in that webbed section there; you won't have to raise your voice to get my men's attention."

The interested Matriarch spoke a word in her native tongue in the microphone and to her surprise it came out nearly five times as loud. She greatly thanked Arcturus for easing her task and she began briefing the marines.

"Entaro Tassadar, good marines of the Kel-Morian combine, and good morning. Below us is the frozen world of Braxis, dwelling of the Uraj crystal. We believe the crystal will be located on the summit of a hill, at coordinates 56-21, 77-33. You will be able to follow its signal using your scanners. Unfortunately, the First-Born have never set foot on Braxis, and as such, we cannot tell you what to be prepared to meet. The creatures on the surface are probably peaceful ones, for in the great cold, there cannot be much of a food chain."

Mengsk allowed himself to add some comments of his own.

"Retrieving the Uraj should be child's play. It will be making a landing and a take off that will be most challenging, for our weather experts estimate wind speeds will reach over one hundred and fifty kilometres per hour."

A loud groan was heard in the crowd of marines, most of them almost certain the operation would claim their lives.

"To add more difficulty, your visibility will be greatly diminished because of the constant blizzard that is taking place on the surface. As Emperor, I order you to remain in a single group and never to split up, for accidents in the snow may occur. Also, I suggest that you be patient while using your weapons, for in the storm, you may see things that appear to be something else. Hold your fire as much as possible."

Raszagal resumed her speech.

"Exactly. The weather will be our main enemy here, for the terrible blizzard will most likely disrupt our radio signals and make communication useless. Every hour, a robotically piloted shuttle will come down to the same area where we will drop you off. Speaking of which, we will leave you in a snowy canyon, so the walls of the ravine will protect you from Braxis' murderous winds. The gorge will end in an easily climbed gradual slope. On top of this slope, you will find the Uraj, a large purple crystal the size of a child. May Adun assist you all… and stay cool."

The Kel-Morians laughed heartily at the Protoss woman's joke, especially because it might be the last they would hear. Rodger felt quite uncomfortable. When he was on Moria, and when he lost his northern home to the claws of the Talos Brood, the only thing he thought of was revenge. Now, the pilot had something to come home to: new friends, a warm and comfortable bed, and most especially, a loving woman. Should he die on Braxis, he would lose these wonderful things forever.

He thought he might still be able to save one he loved: Trikko. He turned to the Hydralisk, who was loyally by his side, and moaned:

"You know, Tri, it's not going to be easy. Maybe you should stay here. It's safer."

The glassy eyes surrounded by pink met the olive globes.

"Master, Trikko will go to the end of the universe if you ask Trikko to do it. Trikko will always be with you."

"And so will I!" a proud, toning voice roared.

It was Fenix, Rodger's Dragoon friend. Rod began to protest, telling him that by Aldaris' demand, only humans could participate in this operation. The rough voice was heard once again.

"I care not of Judicator Aldaris' word! I will join you on these fields!"

The man shook his head as Trikko rubbed his head on his master's shoulder.

"But Fenix… why? Why do you insist?"

The big mechanical spider moved closer to the human.

"I will call myself a coward for the rest of my seemingly endless life if I let you go in the blizzard while I stay here happily enjoying myself! Friends look after each other, Rodger! I pray you know that."

Feeling prized to the two different beings, the pilot wrapped his arm around his pet's long ruff and looked deep in the blue cockpit.

"Yes, Fenix… yes they do… You got me again."

Fenix stood satisfactorily, and the three shuttles began to be loaded with the humans, nearly with all that were on the Ganthritor. Only a few important men, such as Arcturus, stayed back. Feodora too, would remain on the warship, until her wounds would be healed, and under the treatments of the advanced medical machinery, she would regain consciousness again. The few medics that were aboard the warship would stay on the ship as well, for their presence in this move was thought unnecessary. As for the Protoss, they would power the robot shuttles that would serve as transports by waiting on the ship. Of course, several Zealots disagreed to Aldaris' suggestion, wanting to broaden their horizons, but the Judicator's decision was unshakable.

Most Protoss warriors waved goodbye to the marines cheerfully, giving the human soldiers hope and zest. Rodger waved back to them, letting Fenix and Trikko proceed in the shuttle. Kurt too, would be with him; his reassuring eyes and kind smile to warm up his heart in the cold weather. As he gesticulated back to the youthful Protoss, the wraith pilot noticed something quite scary: Josart and Aldaris were next to each other, waving to the departing marines.

Why was Josart to remain on the Ganthritor? He was no important politician; he was simply a private in the Kel-Morian combine, just like Rodger. Perhaps Aldaris had taken a liking in the slightly insane marine, and requested for Jo to stay with him. It was not this fact that worried Rodger; actually, Rod was glad at least one of his friends would be safe. What frightened him was the fact that Aldaris was laughing.

Thousands of light years away, T'rgashi was a bit surprised by how quickly the alliance had discovered the Uraj. He knew it made no difference, though, for his minions had already landed upon Braxis and were heavily guarding the Uraj's perimeter. The brain had even sent Defilers for this operation. Defilers were Zerg creatures that had red eyes and were carriers of very dangerous diseases. One of the foul beasts was burrowed just beneath the crystal, and as soon as it would leave the ground, the creature would appear and begin spreading plague.

T'rgashi was a bit worried, for he believed that despite his efforts, the humans would be able to escape with the Uraj. Should this happen, the Overmind would be in very serious danger, for the First-Born, its lifelong enemy, would hold the key to his death. As such, he ordered Daggoth, the most important Cerebrate, to create an army of Mutalisks and Scourges to be ready to intercept the Ganthritor.

Scourges, barely a third of the Mutalisks' size, were nonetheless lethal. They were fundamentally kamikazes that would slam themselves into the hulls of larger ships. The Scourges' blood was very flammable, and when one of the blind terrors would crash, it would explode like a living plasma bomb. T'rgashi was confident that if the men would indeed retrieve the Uraj, his blockade would annihilate the Ganthritor, and there would be no more resistance. He would then invade Shakuras again and again until he finally assimilated the Protoss into the swarm.

"Descend upon Braxis," murmured the great eye, "and you will lose your lives. Fools!"

Rodger held his forehead with his hand. What could T'rgashi mean by that? Could it be that the Zerg had descended upon Braxis? The man was not sure, for he did not hear the Overmind say anything else. Rod decided not to trouble his comrades with a message he could not even understand. He examined the shuttle's window: they were still in space, but very soon, the transports would enter the cold planet's atmosphere.

"Don't worry," stated Kurt, "We'll be fine. Everybody just hang on tight."

"A suggestion that I shall not forget, bold human." Fenix said, seeming to try to dig himself into the ship's floor with his great spidery legs.

Trikko sank his great natural swords shallowly into the floor, as the men held on to each side of the ship as tightly as possible.

"Entering Braxis atmosphere." A robot voice, evidently the shuttle's, claimed.

The black void of space that was seen just a few moments ago transformed into a white sky with thousands of snow flakes. Rodger had often heard about snow, but had never really seen any from this close, for Moria was a rather hot planet. The thousand frosty bits gave the young man some fascination, but he still remembered that the snow was still his enemy. For good reason! The three shuttles were barely flying straight! The overwhelming winds caused the shuttles to barely follow their course. Through the choppy flight, the marines showed themselves very brave. None of them even screamed a little. They all just took deep breaths, and, following the Matriarch's proposal, stayed "cool".

Suddenly, a great gust of wind shook the transport. It was going in several loops and barrel rolls, not trying to be classy, but because the storm was disrupting the shuttle's controls. The robotically controlled ship miraculously regained control of the appointed coordinates, as a few of the men began making good use of the numerous vomit bags in the shuttle area. Rod's attention was outside. He held his breath; another one of the shuttles was wildly out of control. It did a few loops, but then lost some of its altitude. A few seconds later, a bang was heard, and a column of smoke appeared. The other marines of the Kel-Morian combine knew all too well what happened, and bowed their heads in a moment of silence. Forty men were aboard that shuttle, and such casualties would prove deranging in the conflicts to come.

However, the shuttle had reached its landing location. Without the ramp even unfolding, in fear of not having enough time, twenty-five marines jumped into the snow, followed by a turncoat Hydralisk and a Dragoon. The other shuttle had also unloaded its troops successfully, another forty marines. The transports then left Braxis as quickly as possible. In the ravine, Kurt's strong voice was heard over the wind:

"Now it's our turn. We should follow the gorge like Matriarch Raszagal said, and we'll find the crystal. I will carry it myself."

The group progressed slowly through the snowy gorge, with the cold wind whipping their faces. The footprints they left behind them were almost immediately covered with snow once again. The snowstorm made the squad's vision rather diminished, making it nearly impossible to see three meters ahead. Everyone had to hold each other by the shoulders to make sure no one was left behind. Rodger, Trikko, and Fenix were at the back of the trail, scanning the whereabouts nervously. Braxis was very uninviting. The howl of the wind in the chasm sounded like an injured fox, and icicles began to form a bit everywhere on the marines' faces. Hollow roars were heard in the distance, and could not have been anything else then the mating Ursadons. The men could not have lowered their visors; the visibility would have been even worse.

"A cave! There is a cave in the gorge! We should stop there for a few moments to heat up." Commanded aggressively Kurt, a naturally gifted man in the art of leadership.

Everyone ran towards the hole, more than happy to have a few instants of warmth. The cave was very dark, though, and no one could see anything, except for Trikko, whose vision was piercing and accurate. Kurt turned on his scanner.

"According to the scanner, we're only about half a mile away from the Uraj. We'll be able to get it soon enough. Now remember, when the crystal is in our possession, we…"

Kurt was cut in his speech by a slimy sound: the sound of a Hydralisk launching his needle spines. Everybody turned to face Trikko, whose ruff was wide open to reveal the thousands of needles that nested within it. Trikko closed it quickly, and Kurt stepped towards him, and spoke with foul breath.

"Are you trying to betray us now, Zerg scum?"

The Zerg creature simply pointed behind the giant marine. The dark hair spun around, and Kurt lighted the flashlights that were posted on each of the encounter suit's shoulders. A gasp was heard many times in the echo of the cave. The deadly projectiles had hit something all right: they deeply penetrated a Zergling's skin, staining the cave floor with blood.

"What the hell?? How did Zerg get in here?" exclaimed Kurt, shocked and surprised.

He had no answer, though, for everyone had frozen into place. Not from the cold, but from the fear. A high pitch roar was heard in the depths of the cave. Rodger, being a thoughtful one, fired a single shot of his Photon Disrupter. The projectile, a bright blue, flew in a straight line and crashed in the wall at the very end of the cave. The photon ball generated light, and as it soared through the air, it revealed several pairs of glassy, yellow eyes and snarling alien faces.

"Run!!" shouted Rodger.

The Kel-Morian combine did not have to hear that twice. In the blink of an eye, everyone was gladly in the cold once again and out of the cave. Fenix got in touch with his warrior spirit again, and fired a blue globe just over the cave's entrance. The explosion caused a cave-in, which blocked the opening. Roars and growls were heard from inside, and the improvised door shook many times, most likely from the Zerglings slamming themselves helplessly against the wall, trying to tear it down. The boulders were heavy, though, and the frail creatures could not hope to make a sizeable dent, for the moment.

"Well done, Fenix!" cheered Rodger.

"Well done to you too, Tri! Way to detect!"

The pacified Hydralisk smiled widely and Fenix nodded his upper body. Several marines came to Fenix and patted him optimistically, telling him he had done superbly. No man had any congratulations for Trikko, however, and this truly saddened Rodger. He feared his comrades might never grow to accept his pet. After a brief moment of celebration, the squadron continued its cold route, wondering how the Zerg could have come to Braxis.

Before the cave was sealed, Kurt and several other marines noticed the Zerg's skin was a dark red, the colour of the Tiamat Brood, and the most powerful of them all. The entire group was worried by the appearance of the vicious killers, but they could not back down now. The Uraj was only half a mile away. Now was not the time to raise the white flag.


	17. End of the line

Chapter seventeen: End of the line

Her eyes glowed with renewed vigour and bliss, just like they had when she had danced with the great human Emperor. The medic was awake, at last. She was weak, but she could two things that filled the Matriarch with joy: Speak and smile.

The young woman had awakened about the same time the shuttles landed on Braxis. Raszagal had been in her room ever since the Kel-Morian combine had set out on the quest for the Uraj. When the green eyes opened, her mouth moved a bit. At first, Raszagal did not hear a thing, but as she moved her head closer to Feodora, she clearly heard:

"Re…Ro…Rodger… W…Where's Rodger?"

The Matriarch had been more than happy to answer:

"He's on Braxis, child, looking for the Uraj."

For the past hour, the medic had been asking the old Protoss woman several questions regarding the events that had occurred during the past week, as well as personal questions so the two could know each other better. Raszagal told the human everything: Bur'klok's attack, Rodger's discovery of the Uraj, and the departure of the Kel-Morian combine. Feodora looked at her wound at squinted. It truly did hurt, and she had some mild difficulties breathing. Yet, she made an important observation.

"You said Bur'klok, the Zealot, attacked me?"

The head of the Dark Templar nodded.

"Yes, he has, child."

"Don't Zealots master the art of the blades and the art of the blades only?"

Again, Raszagal agreed. The lovely emerald eyes glared for a second, demonstrating that the thoughtful woman was in deep thinking. Without warning, the human's small hand reached for her own wound, and sank her fingers deeply into it. The Matriarch gasped in terror when she heard Feodora's screams and shouts of pain.

"Stop it now, young one! You are only deteriorating your situation!"

Feodora, hearing nothing, gasped in triumph when she removed from her belly a small, bloodied pointy object.

"Wha? What is that?" screeched the terrified Protoss.

"It's quite obvious, Raszagal… it's a bullet. I've been shot."

Raszagal was horrified by the truth. Bur'klok was definitely not the culprit. The young Zealot knew only how to wield Psionic Blades. The sons of Aiur were still very uncommon with humanity's arsenal, and even under severe training, the Protoss could not hope to use guns in the field of battle. The First-Born were too used to cutting down enemies from where they stood with their ever-effective psi blades. They also had their Dragoons, but they had to lob their energy into circular arcs to damage anything. They could not fire at range in a straight line. The only Protoss weapons that were capable of such attacks were the dual photon blasters that armed their fighter jets, otherwise known as scouts. The Ganthritor, a massively armed and armoured ship, could also fire destructive laser beams capable of reducing any large opponent to space dust in seconds. In their mobile infantry, though, the First-Born knew not of ranged attacks.

"You speak the truth, child. Bur'klok cannot be guilty. You were shot by one of your own kind."

Feodora was glad she proved the innocence of a Zealot, for she treated the Protoss with great respect. They treated her well, unlike most men, who were simply attracted to her physical appearance. She had already many friends amongst the First-Born, Bur'klok being one of them. As soon as Raszagal had said Bur'klok was the assailant, she was incredulous. Quickly, the weakened woman reached for a piece of paper and asked the Matriarch if she could write the order of the young warrior's liberation.

Raszagal shook her head and refused the paper, as though embarrassed. Feodora did not know why, but she asked the elderly Protoss why it could not be done.

"When you grow over one thousand years old, child, you begin to forget how to do things you do not do often enough. For instance, it has been over two hundred years since I have written anything. I can read just fine, but I do not remember how to formulate most Protoss letters anymore, and for a document to be official on the Ganthritor, it must be written in my language."

Feodora looked down sadly, and whimpered a bit, but the Matriarch said reassuringly:

"Do not be afraid, I will get Zeratul to be here right away. He will write my letter."

Afterwards, Raszagal and Feodora took time to discuss their love lives. Feodora had a lot to say, telling Raszagal about how exciting and romantic Rodger was. The Matriarch was nearly silent. She never was married or had any interest in any Protoss man.

"What about Zeratul?" asked the medic.

The old Protoss began to laugh happily, telling the woman Zeratul was only her protector, her guardian, the Prelate that kept the Dark Templar focused. The human noticed something strange about the Matriarch. She had a gold pendant, gold being a mineral Protoss rarely use.

"Where did that come from?" asked Feodora, with a certain tone of amusement in her voice.

Getting no answer from Raszagal, the medic weakly moved her hand towards the pendant and opened it. It contained a picture of a smiling bearded man, showing a row of white teeth. The gentle hand loosened its grip upon the pendant, and it dangled in the air for some time. Feodora was shocked:

"Mengsk? The great Emperor Mengsk? "The man who never smiles"? I don't understand…"

Raszagal nervously admitted that she and Arcturus had become closer with each passing day on the Ganthritor.

"You're not saying what I'm thinking you're saying," said the beautiful lass, imitating her boyfriend on their first date, "You don't mean… you're in love with Emperor Mengsk???"

The dark cheeks of the Matriarch suddenly got a reddish tint. Feodora laughed carelessly, but began coughing due to the magnitude of her injury.

"What is it you see in Mengsk? He's a strict leader and hates getting stepped on his feet."

Raszagal looked dreamily at the ceiling and her answer came amorously.

"Arcturus is a very good man. He's a bit commanding, I'll agree with you there, but he's handsome. He has those great big hazel eyes, and surprisingly, he's quite patient. He taught me how to dance again, even though I had forgotten, just like I forgot how to write. He's also helpful and caring. Truly, I don't think I have ever met someone like Arcturus."

Feodora thought Raszagal's description of Arcturus quite inaccurate to her, but nonetheless very romantic. It was not long before Feodora could not resist asking another question.

"Are you and Ar… Mengsk a couple??"

The Matriarch shook her head about, telling the young woman she was too shy.

"Aw, come on, Raszagal. If you don't take Arcturus now, he might be taken the next time you turn around. Follow your star as soon as it appears, for if you wait, it'll turn into a supernova and blow up into your face when you get to it."

Raszagal laughed at the comparison, and told Feodora she would most likely tell Arcturus about her feelings this very night, for she was certain that if she would wait any longer, she would die of old age before having experienced love. This statement pleased Feodora. After a few minutes of discussion of other topics, a loud, accusing, yet prideful voice toned in the room. The two heads turned around to see who had spoken.

It was Judicator Aldaris, his great yellow eyes gleaming and shining with a craze that was never seen before.

"Good day, Aldaris. Perhaps you are just on time. I need you to write a letter for me."

The human-loathing Protoss walked with arrogance towards the wounded girl's bed, and presented her with shiny purple flowers, lustrous.

"These are for you. I am glad to see you are awake."

This was the second time in less than two weeks the Judicator showed great affection towards the humans. Aldaris had definitely changed. Before anyone could talk again, the medic firstly thanked Aldaris for the lovely gift, and then stated:

"Um… Matriarch? Didn't you say Zeratul was going to write your letter?"

Raszagal nodded, but said it made no difference, as long as it was written and written by a Protoss. Aldaris asked the Matriarch what the letter was for.

"The order for the liberation of Bur'klok. We found a bullet within Feodora, and Bur'klok, being a Zealot, surely has no experience with ranged weapons."

The Judicator rubbed his head nervously, feeling guilty for calling the young warrior a traitor.

"We should… get it over with right now." He said, with a strange tone of eagerness in his voice.

Raszagal agreed, and decided to go somewhere where Aldaris would be comfortable to write.

"Goodbye, Feodora Martexy. It's been a privilege." She declared cheerfully.

Feodora weakly waved goodbye to the Matriarch, but just as the two Protoss were about to leave the room, the medic called to the Matriarch once again.

"Matriarch? Tell me something. Where does this necklace come from? I've never seen it before, although it is very lovely. Does it belong to me?"

With a ray of joy in her eyes, Raszagal answered:

"It belongs to you, child. Your lover made it for you with the help of Fenix as a parting gift. Who knows? Perhaps you will never see Rodger again… That's why he made it for you."

At those words, the room was cleansed of Protoss presence. Raszagal and Aldaris left to write the epistle to free Bur'klok. Feodora was alone again in the small room. She looked at the jewellery with sorrow. It would be terrible if Rodger died on Braxis. She truly felt she could spend the rest of her life with him. He was so sweet, so caring… yet so sarcastic. This last trait made the young woman chuckle, even under the circumstances. She closed her eyes, and as she held the necklace in her small palm, she tried to contact Rod from within.

"Rodger…please come back… I love you."

She opened her emerald orbs again and looked at her left. There was a small black radio. She wondered what it was for. She pressed the play button, and she heard the voice of Raszagal and Rodger. The medic understood; it was recordings of all the visits so she would not miss a thing. She relaxed her head against her pillow dreamingly, listening to her boyfriend's voice again and again, more specifically the passage "If anything happens to me, I want you to tell her I love her very much and that I will wait for her in the next life." It was so soothing that Feodora closed her eyes and the young woman fell asleep.

Just a few rooms away, Aldaris was sitting down comfortably at Raszagal's desk, with a Protoss gleaming pen. The Matriarch, sitting down not so far away, cleared her throat and prepared to dictate the text.

"I, Raszagal, Matriarch of the Dark Templar, hereby order Zealot Bur'klok to be liberated from his five hundred year sentence…"

She stopped, for Aldaris had curiously stopped writing. He put his hand on his brow and looked at the Dark Templar's wise and kind leader.

"Matriarch, how many times have you written a letter, or ordered a Protoss such as myself to do so?"

Troubled by the question's nature, Raszagal simply replied that there were too many times to count. In her millennial life, the Protoss woman had indeed written countless letters, requesting several favours.

"Why do you say this, Judicator? Are you trying to tell me something?"

Aldaris stood up in all his height, and answered.

"What I am saying is that for too long you have watched over the Dark Templar, and the sons of Aiur as well, ever since we retreated to Shakuras. You must be wearied to control everything and everyone like you do."

"Tired I am, Aldaris. But the time to abandon my commanding post is not now. We approach the day where we will assault the Overmind. Our people need my leadership, Judicator. If we come out victorious of this adventure, I will resign my post."

The terrifying yellow eyes displayed their passion once again. Aldaris had never looked like this before, and what he longed for was a mystery to Raszagal.

"Too long you have guided us, Matriarch. Your shepherd stick is broken from setting it upon so many stones. You are over a millennium year old, good Raszagal. It is time to step aside."

The Matriarch repeated that the Protoss needed her now more than ever, and could not disappoint them. She told him that the Dark Templar, as well as many other Aiur survivors looked up to her like a mother. She then yawned silently.

"You watched over that young woman since this morning. You need rest."

Raszagal agreed, and went for her bed where she was quickly asleep. The letter could wait, Aldaris decided.

But he had business to do. He had to draw the end of the line.


	18. Retrieving the crystal

Chapter eighteen: Retrieving the crystal

"Ow!" moaned Kurt.

He fell on his back, and looked at his foot. Everyone got around him in a circle, while the wind was furiously blowing.

"What happened?" asked Rodger, shivering from the cold.

The large blue-eyed leader snarled and answered quickly and aggressively:

"I stepped on that frickin' rock right there! It's pointy!"

The hole in Kurt's heavily armoured boot demonstrated it. Most likely it would have cut through some of his skin, too, but there were no medics in the operation, believing this would be an easy get in-get out tactic. No one could have guessed the Zerg presence in the cavern. Either way, what was done was done. Kurt had stepped on a sharp stone and cut his foot. Fenix, who had looked at the tiny stone in question since Kurt skewered his foot, moved closer to it. The proud warrior roared in satisfaction.

"It's the Uraj! Kurt, you have stepped on the Uraj!"

In no time, marines were using the metallic hands of their encounter suits to dig in the snow. Trikko's blades dug as well, and were making a hole much quicker then anyone else. In about five minutes, the Uraj was uncovered. Kurt picked it up and held it up high while a cheer was heard over the whirring sound of the air stream. R

od looked at his watch and indicated that the shuttle's next arrival would be in around fifteen minutes, and if they wanted to leave Braxis as soon as possible, it would be necessary to leave without delay. Fenix nodded:

"He's right. We must leave. Immediately! Let nothing slow us down!"

The mechanical spider led the way, followed by a trail of about sixty marines and with his messy-haired friend right next to him. Kurt was surrounded by a group of six marines, who protectively made sure nothing bad could happen to him, even defending him against the terrible wind. Rodger stopped in his jog and raised his hand to request a halt.

"Did you hear that?"

The other Kel-Morians heard nothing. If they had keen ears like their olive-eyed counterpart, they too, would have heard the deep "Fuguruuuuu…" from underneath the ground.

Rod turned around and saw surface from the snow the most disgusting and strangest Zerg he had ever seen. It had frightening red eyes; a sharp maw, no legs, and somewhat resembled a snake, overall. Its two arms with two sharp fingers stretched towards the group of marines. Rodger went for his Photon Disrupter while yelling aggressively in order to warn his comrades of the manifestation, but the odd creature was the quicker. It opened its mouth and launched a red ball more than fifteen time its own size. The ball crashed into the tail of the trail of men and spread wickedly.

Furious, Rod fired twice as many shots as required to make the creature's head explode. The strange corpse smelt atrocious.

"What? A Zerg Defiler?" murmured Trikko, who was well aware of all the different species existing in the swarm.

The thirty marines who had been engulfed in the red toxins looked at themselves questionably, wondering what was the effect of this attack.

"What is that red substance?" asked Fenix, speaking to the Hydralisk.

"Defiler plague… it's terrible. These men will all suffer atrociously."

The men who were not hit by the plague looked in despair at the first symptoms of their companions. They all started to throw up in the snow. One of the infected marines walked towards Fenix, and the Dragoon back peddled, horrified and repulsed. The man's face was distorted beyond recognition. His eyes were coming out of their orbits. His lower lip had nearly disappeared. His nose was bumpy and twitchy. The worst part of it was the man's skin; it was bubbling like magma. He moved towards the Dragoon and shouted:

"KILL ME! KILL ME!"

Fenix listened to the great screams of pain of the man, but remained frozen in place, horror-struck. The marine spat at the Dragoon, went for a pistol on his waist belt and placed a bullet in his own head. Several other marines who were disgusted by their appearance and too anguished by the pain imitated him. Some were stronger though, and refused to die.

"Plague cannot kill! The plague never kills! It only induces great amounts of suffering!" shouted Trikko as loud as possible.

The men who had not committed suicide were relieved, for the pain seemed to contradict the Hydralisk's statement. The total number of the squad had lowered by about twenty-three, for only seven infected marines were brave enough to fight the plague and live on. The entire team ran as fast as they could towards the end of the gorge, where they had come from. The plague had greatly delayed them. The sprint was very difficult for the plagued; one man lost a leg as he ran, for the foreign virus had chewed through his bones.

"G…Go! Agh, don't wait up for me!" he said, crawling in the snow.

"Leaving a man behind is worse then fleeing a battle!" exclaimed the Dragoon, which hauled the crippled man on his back.

The exhausting run in the snow continued. The Uraj was getting heavy in Kurt's hands, and he passed it to Rodger who would carry it for a while. As they reached half way, another terrible surprise awaited them: the persistent Zerglings had broken down their prison.

"Attack!" said Kurt's shivering voice.

Rifles exploded into action as bullets flew everywhere. Fenix was unable to attack, for the man was on his upper body, where his weapon was located. The Hellhounds rushed on the expedition, scratching and biting heavily at the encounter suits. Other men infected by the plague found their amour also weakened by the illness, and got hammered down by the furious beasts. Many Zerglings were killed when they got close, but ten remained, and they were much more powerful then the ones Kurt and Rodger had confronted on Moria.

The men's accuracy was diminished by the snowstorm, and a few were even killed by friendly fire. It seemed hopeless; the Zerg were viciously attacking without halt. Rodger had dropped the crystal to be able to fight, but he then wondered why the Zerg simply had not stolen it from them, for Zerglings were much faster then they were. One of the creatures approached Rodger with a confident grin. The young pilot stuck out his tongue at the raptor, and grabbed the Uraj. The Zergling had a movement of retreat, but Rod caught it by surprise. He poked the Death Dog with it. It exploded into blue fragments, and each of these fragments descended upon a Zergling, which caused them to explode as well, and turn into more pieces. The battle was over, but it had been a close one.

Only Kurt, Rodger, Fenix, Trikko, and ten other men survived. They slowly continued, not able to run any more. A bit later, they arrived at their starting point, triumphantly carrying the Uraj. To their dread, the shuttle was not at the rendezvous. Trikko pointed in the sky at a faint blue light; a shuttle's engine. They had missed it by just a few minutes, but now, they had to wait for another hour before it would come again. They were unsure if they could stay alive for another hour in the frozen wasteland.

The shuttle came back empty. Zeratul crossed his arms on his chest. Where could the humans be? It had been the fourth time the shuttles had been sent; as such it had been four hours. He was sure the Kel-Morian combine men were safe, and they had probably only missed the shuttle by a matter of minutes. The Prelate was just about to release the shuttles once again when Judicator Aldaris walked into the room, a certain satisfaction visible in the way he walked.

"Hold, Zeratul. I have order from the Matriarch to tell you to stop sending shuttles on Braxis immediately."

Zeratul was outraged at this statement.

"What? Impossible. The Matriarch would never abandon the humans and the Uraj crystal to rot on such a frozen world."

Aldaris gave the suspicious Protoss a letter. The Dark Templar opened it quickly, anxious to know if Aldaris was lying. He read:

I, Raszagal, Matriarch of the Dark Templar, hereby order

to the sons of Aiur that the operation upon Braxis

is to be aborted immediately. After extended research,

It is clear that the signal erupting from Braxis is not from

the Uraj at all. The expeditionary forces on Braxis are to be

abandoned. Shuttles will no longer descend upon Braxis,

For no time can be wasted. Arcturus Mengsk has already

ordered the coming of new human forces. They will meet

with us when we find the Uraj. I am shamed and mortified by the decision the

council Has taken, but it is for the best.

Raszagal

"This is wrong. Surely Raszagal has not written this!"

Aldaris leered at the orange-eyed character evily and continued.

"Your Matriarch has written this letter with her very own hand! Your shepherd! The head of the Dark Templar! You wouldn't dare disagree with her! Do exactly as she says!"

Intimidated by the aggressiveness in the navy-skinned Protoss, Zeratul shrugged and agreed, while folding the letter and putting it in his pocket for safekeeping. Aldaris left the docking bay shortly after.

"There is something amiss here…" thought the Prelate. "The Matriarch has always been a gentle soul. Although there is some merit in her decision, this is very unlike her. And how it infuriates me to think we cannot communicate with the men down on Braxis! Perhaps it is the Uraj after all! We all heard Rodger's recording that day he told us the Uraj was on the snowy planet. What else could create such a powerful signal?"

Zeratul, with so many doubts, could not just stand there. The Matriarch had forbidden the shuttles to leave the Ganthritor, but said nothing about human dropships. The Dark Templar focused on using his main power, and became invisible. A dropship was docked in a corner, silently. Each transport was guarded by its respectful pilot, who would sleep in the driving area of the ship. Zeratul penetrated a ship like a cat, in complete silence. The dropship pilot, a thin man with a goatee was snoring loudly.

"Forgive me." Zeratul whispered as quietly as the peaceful wind.

The Protoss' incredibly large hand slammed on the man's nose, and the breakage of bones was heard. The man screeched in horror as he saw blood flow abundantly from his nose. He then felt an invisible presence seize him and carry him out to the loading area of the ship. Then he was thrown out on the docking bay. Yelling in pain and anger, the pilot cursed at his ship, which was flying away into space.

"We're all going to die. Damn the Uraj!" said Kurt, shivering ferociously.

Rodger was freezing as well. In the squadron, it was chaos. Some men were running around in circles, to generate heat by stimulating their muscles, while others sat in a ball in the snow, sobbing desperately. Fenix was probably the calmest of them all. He proudly stood on his four mechanical legs and stared into the horizon where the shuttle was last seen. The fallen warrior never gave up his hope. Rodger often looked at the horizon with his friend, but resumed his jog, for he too, had to fight the vicious cold.

A new natural enemy was setting as well: Night. The weather became even colder than before, and it was nearly impossible to see anything else but the never-ending fall of snowflakes. The chill was unbearable; men were literally freezing from where they stood or sat. Rodger, a ten-centimetre icicle forming on his nose, decided there had to be somewhere or something they could do to remain warmer for at least a while. The young man went to investigate the area. He followed the gorge but did not know how far he wondered. Soon he got lost.

He yelled for his friends several time, but the howling wind blocked his voice. Cold and alone, Rodger thought he was doomed until a fuming roar was heard ahead of him. He could not see what it was exactly, but he saw a large white figure in the shadows ahead of him. He knew it could be nothing more than an Ursadon. He heard footsteps at a worrying pace and thought the creature was charging for him, so he went for his Photon Discharger and opened fire. The thing was killed instantly and fell only a few feet away from Rodger.

It was indeed an Ursadon, nearly eight feet in height and six around the body. The shooter moved towards its attacker, and stroked the white fur. It was dead alright, its eight, black eyes staring voidly ahead. The fur gave Rodger an idea, albeit one a bit gruesome.

Not so far away in the storm, just a few meters the rest of the men, the mighty Hydralisk stood alone. The other marines showed no respect or love for the creature, even if it was of great value in the operation. It felt great sorrow, for only Rodger and Feodora seemed to tolerate it. Feeling lonely and abandoned, Trikko looked at the snowflakes that were gently dropping on his long ruff. He saw a particularly large snowflake and followed it with his great glassy eyes.

As it landed on the ground, another of his overdevelopped senses was stimulated. He smelt something. An odour he was accustomed to very often and absolutely enjoyed.

"Blood… Trikko…smells…BLOOD!!"

The Hydralisk licked his jagged face with his snake-like tongue and headed towards the direction of the smell. Fenix saw the demonic speed at which Trikko was advancing and followed him, and he was pursued by all the marines, plagued and unplagued alike.

A strange spectacle was waiting for them all. Trikko got there first, and saw his master removing ribs from the Ursadon's corpse. Rodger had cut a trap door in the Ursadon's body. Every man in the combine was disgusted, even the plagued that were already sickened by their own appearance but refused to die. Rodger turned around smiling, his hands covered with blood, and said:

"All inside!"

He opened the trap door and his comrades saw that the interior of the white beast was cleaned. No large organs remained. They were all placed on the ground, and Trikko was eating them secretly.

"You sick, sick child!" cried out Kurt. "Why the hell did you carve a cavern in that Ursadon?"

Rod demonstrated the purpose of his "art" by installing himself in the corpse. All the marines applauded and joined him in the Ursadon. There was just enough room for the survivors. It was hot in the hulking beast. Fenix and Trikko, being cold resistant remained outside to look for the shuttle. They thought they heard an engine roar, but they decided it was their imagination, for it sounded nothing like a shuttle's.

Zeratul was horrified. He had never driven a ship before, and the human transport was more difficult to drive then he had imagined. Braxis' atrocious storm did nothing to facilitate his piloting. Half the time, the Dark Templar was clumsily doing loopings and barrel rolls, still uneasy with the foreign human controls of the dropship. He could not see very well, and started to think he was going to crash. In a formidable effort, he managed to rotate the ship and it landed perilously in the snow on its belly. Zeratul rushed outside the transport in the snow, and yelled as loud as he could for the expeditionary force.

"I hear a voice." Murmured Trikko.

The Dragoon looked at the Hydralisk with surprise, but it seemed very sincere about its declaration.

"Where do you hear a voice, Rodger's pet? Are you certain of what you say?"

Trikko nodded his head and slithered smoothly in the snow. Fenix followed. After a good five minutes of marching, the two adventurers encountered Zeratul. The Prelate, so relieved that there were some survivors, made a few backflips in joy. Trikko and Fenix looked at themselves, confused by the usually serious Zeratul's behaviour.

"I found you! Where are the others?" asked Zeratul. "They are hiding inside an Ursadon. Come, we will take you. Trikko, can you take us back to the corpse?"

The Hydralisk began sniffing at Fenix's demand, and started out towards where they had came from. Another five minutes later, the orange-eyed Dark Templar opened the trap door. All the marines had started to play a game of crazy eights inside the Ursadon. Rodger looked at his old friend and smiled.

"Zeratul! You found us!"

Kurt, who brandished the Uraj, interrupted the messy-haired pilot.

"Look what we found! Isn't she a beauty?"

Zeratul took the crystal in his hand at stared at it with much fascination.

"I came here in a human dropship, and I had a bit of difficulty landing… we have to leave, now. Every moment we waste leaves T'rgashi more time to reinforce his defence. Is anyone here a pilot?"

Rodger raised his hand proudly, and the entire group departed to the dropship. On the way there, the Dragoon nervously approached Trikko and said:

"That was good work, with your senses. Maybe you aren't like the rest of your kindred. Forgive my past mistrust."

The Hydralisk, in response, smiled widely. A few moments later, the dropship awkwardly left Braxis, and cheers erupted from inside it.


	19. A wound from within

Chapter nineteen: A wound from within

A few moments later, the dropship was docked with the Ganthritor once again. Several Zealots were walking around in the docking bay, head low. The door to the transport opened and the survivors exited it hastily. Kurt held the Uraj high up in the air, hoping to get the apparantly depressed Zealots' attention.

"We found the crystal! We found the crystal!!"

Pairs of eyes of several different colours all looked at the same spot in an instant. For the next minutes, celebration was everywhere in the docking bay. Zealots, thanking Adun while pumping their enormous arms in the air, and the men, dancing and giving each other high fives were all commemorating their victory. As the uproar went on, Judicator Aldaris and Emperor Mengsk entered the room.

Zeratul, who was barely joining in to the excitement due to his extreme seriousness moved towards the cheerful crowd, took the Uraj and walked towards Aldaris, looking somewhat fulfilled.

"Perhaps age has dulled my Matriarch's senses, for look what we have found on Braxis' surface."

Aldaris lowered his head for a second in sorrow for a reason Zeratul ignored.

"Yes, indeed… it is the last mistake Raszagal ever made."

Alarmed, the Prelate questionned the statement immediately. Arcturus moved a few steps closer to Zeratul, and that's when the Protoss noticed there was something wrong. The Emperor had dark circles under his eyes, as if he had been watching television for two days. As for his eyes themselves, they were red and puffy. His skin had gone much whiter. In shorter terms, Arcturus looked like he had been raised from the dead.

The great politician answered Zeratul's question with a hollow, devastated voice.

"This has been Raszagal's last mistake because…because she is dead…"

She rested on her bed, a blanket covering her, with a peaceful look on her face. It seemed the head of the Dark Templar did not suffer. Rodger, Zeratul, Fenix, Aldaris, Kurt, Trikko as well as a roomful of Zealots were all around her fallen body. The death of the Protoss woman explained the depression that reigned over the Zealots as the expeditionary forces returned. Protoss warriors that Rodger thought untouchable were sobbing quietly, showing a flaw in their aggressive and proud spirit. Rod, as he held the Matriarch's cold hand, did not think of it as an imperfection, however. He thought it perfectly normal for everyone to be sensitive, especially in a moment like this. He felt a tear form in his own eye as he remembered the lively Raszagal who always had recomforting words for him in any situation. He knew he would miss her very much.

He took a quick look around the room to see the emotions of his comrades. Zeratul had his head low respectively, and was murmuring something in the Protoss tongue. Fenix's feelings were undetectable because he had no real face, but he was grieved. Trikko did not really know the Matriarch, so he left the room politely, leaving the Protoss and humans in their quiet sorrow. One Protoss' behaviour intrigued Rodger, though. It was Aldaris. He stood silently with his skinny arms crossed on his chest, looking at Raszagal's face, his eyes scintillating with a feeling unknown to the young pilot.

He was dazed, for there was only one feeling Rodger could associate the Judicator's glare with: Rage. He was sure Aldaris was furious about something. Rod was quickly knocked out of his pondering as he heard loud weeps coming from his left. The great Emperor Mengsk was crying the death of the Matriarch. Although he was known for his coldness, in situations like these, the wound from within would hurt even Arcturus. Rodger observed as Mengsk walked towards the Raszagal's cadaver. He touched her face smoothly as more tears ran down his face.

"Goodbye, Raszagal…"

A loud intake of breath was heard in the room as Arcturus added another comment to his words of farewell.

"I loved you…"

The Emperor then retreated to the boundaries of the room to sob. Rodger believed it was his time to speak, so he took off the helmet of his encounter suit in the deepest of reverence. He then cleared his throat, remembering his Captain, Ray Aureus, for he always cleared his throat before making a speech. Before more memories of the war hero could cloud Rodger's mind, the messy-haired man started his own words of farewell loud enough for the entire room to hear him.

"My dear Matriarch Raszagal… it'll be hard without your help. To every problem, you found some solution. You always believed in the friendship the Protoss and humans would share one day, and now look where we are. We did it. We're all friends now… well, except for Bur'lokl… but he lies where he belongs. We will always remember your wisdom, and your caring personality. Always, always you will be in our hearts.

"As for us, we will find the resolve to carry on! We have our secret weapon, the Xel'Nagian crystals, for we successfully retrieved the Uraj from the cold Braxis. We may not have extreme numbers as our enemy, the Zerg, does, but we stand united. And we will do everything in our power to destroy the Overmind T'rgashi in your name, even if that means every last one of us will die! We will obliderate the Zerg menace once and for all! Entaro Raszagal!"

Different reactions manifested themselves in the room at that very moment. Some were crying intensively at the words the marine said to ease the departure of the Matriarch, while others cheered wildly, as determined as Rodger to annihilate the Overmind. Fenix began a Protoss chant, which made a link reaction that brought in several Zealots. Some marines even joined in the hymn, even if they could not understand a word they were singing. While the bulk of the individuals were singing, the olive-eyed marine walked towards Zeratul, who was still very serious and quiet about his Matriarch's death.

"Zeratul, my Prelate, what is to happen to the Dark Templar? Raszagal was the chief of your kindred. Will someone take her place?"

The Dark Templar's frightful orange eyes looked profoundly into the green orbs.

"None will ever be able to truly take Raszagal's place, but yes, trials will come to institute a new leader for the Dark Templar. Alas, these trials, by rule and by tradition, take a long time to take effect. When we will name a new Matriarch or Patriarch, we will inform you of it, old friend."

A bright smile shone on Rodger's mouth then, and he bowed to Zeratul then began to leave. A large hand clasped his shoulder and turned him around somewhat aggressively as he heard the Prelate's voice continue:

"Oh, and by the way…"

Confused by the meaning of this, the pilot raised his eyebrows, but Zeratul finished his statement quickly:

"…Thank you for those noble words. Raszagal heard that. Adun be with you."

Rodger rubbed his neck nervously, not knowing how to reply to such a compliment. His grin showed his appreciation, and although his speech was what truly caused the excitement that reigned in the room, Rod thought he did not belong in the room. He wished to find Trikko who had left the area earlier. Laughing weakly at the fact that the rebellious Hydralisk did not hear his speech, Hertubiz slowly walked towards the only exit. To his surprise, the door opened by itself and his eyes met glassy ones surrounded by bright pink. The weirdest feature about Trikko, however, was that he had an enormous smirk on his face, larger than any the young man had seen before. This was most surprising because this was a dark hour, and no time for smiling.

"What are you doing?" asked the puzzled marine.

The Hydralisk simply moved a bit to the left, for he nearly covered the entire means of access, leaving the way out free for his master. As the large, brownish form got out of the way, a shorter, more harmonious figure demonstrated itself. Emerald eyes shining with emotion found Rodger's olive eyes once again. The young pilot did not hesitate. He rushed to the beautiful figure and held it in his arms.

"Feodora! Oh, I missed you… I'm so glad you're alright!"

The young woman did not answer. She was smiling too hard, rubbing Rod's back with her delicate hands. Then she spoke:

"Oh, Rodger, I was scared that you may not return from Braxis… but here you are. I wish this moment would have no end."

A large smile appeared on Rodger's face.

"We can always make it better."

The pair was then caught in a never-ending kissing session, in which they stroked each other's backs and hair frenetically. While the couple was joyfully displaying their affection for each other, a disgusted Trikko started move away.

"Human customs sicken Trikko…" he mumbled.

Zealots looked at him angrily, still not trusting the Zerg creature. The Talos rebel slithered away, head low. Meanwhile, Rodger and Feodora's lips were finally apart, and Rod stated:

"This is one of the best days of my life. If only Raszagal was alright…"

Worried, the medic asked her lover what had happened. Not really willing to answer, not truly knowing what had occurred anyhow, Rod took Feodora by the hand and went towards Aldaris, whom Rod was certain, knew what happened. The Judicator was quiet, unlike all the Zealots who were chanting more loudly then before, standing silently looking at the fallen Raszagal.

"Aldaris! Can I talk to you for a minute?" called Rodger. Aldaris quickly turned around, looking a bit nervous.

"You may, if you believe you must."

Lovingly surrounding Feodora's shoulder with one of his strong arms, the pilot said:

"My dear Feodora was out cold most of the time during these past times, and I'm curious to know what happened to the Matriarch as well. Being part of the council as well, you must have been able to take a close look at Raszagal's status. Do you have a theory, or maybe what happened, exactly?"

Aldaris crossed his arms and looked at Raszagal's body.

"She was violently ill the past few days. Struck with a disease that only affects elderly Protoss."

Rodger stepped forward.

"Maybe its Alhzeimer's, cause if it is, then it doesn't only affect your kind."

The Judicator moved his face right in front of the man's, displaying some sort of hysterical anger.

"It is not Alhzeimer's. You must believe me on this."

He then walked out of the room without looking back. Feodora, a suspicious glare in her lively eyes, stated:

"I don't know, it seems a bit weird… Raszagal paid a visit to me just this morning. She had fine memory, except for the fact that she forgot how to write. Poor Raszagal… she was such a optimistic character…"

The couple walked away, holding hands tightly. Although they were happy to be unified again, they both felt a bit of sadness because of the tragic death of the head of the Dark Templar. Memories of her round, yellow eyes remained in the two young humans for a long time, but then the pair could only think of each other.

Their dream was disturbed when they encountered Josart Lamont, whom Rodger did not see since his departure for Braxis, in the halls of the great ship. Calmly, Rodger saluted the short man.

"Hey Jo. Where have you been?"

Josart smiled widly; simply answering his new friend Aldaris had been teaching him several things about the Protoss.

"Oh really? Fenix and Zeratul have tought me the most important things about the First-Born. They've been really nice to me."

The olive-eyed marine stopped in his chattering to introduce his girlfriend to Josart.

"Josart, this is Feodora. Feodora, this is Josart."

Feodora showed the short, green-haired fellow her nicest smile and introduced herself.

"Hi there, Josart! How are you doing?"

She and Rodger figured out that something was wrong, however, because Jo simply stood there, mouth wide open, as if something surprised him.

"Y…Fe…Feodora?? Then, what did Al… Al? Who did the… how did he… how did I… Who d… Who sh… with a g… wha WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

The young man was then running down the halls the opposite way, yelling like a six-year-old girl. Rodger exploded in laughter.

"Hehehe, that's Josart for you! He's never serious. I don't understand why it is he hasn't come back yet, though. Oh well. Come on."

The marine's hand seized the medics' gently and they continued their walk in the halls of the Ganthritor. Although Rodger seemed to be calm about Josart's behaviour, Feodora was a bit worried. She held Rod's hand tighter, breathed deeply, and tried to forget about it. But she could not.


	20. Life on the warship

Chapter twenty: Life on the Warship

"Who… what the??" a confused Zealot yelled.

Bur'klok had been in jail seemingly indefinitely and his loss of his freedom was truly a scar in his life. The young Protoss warrior could only practice his strike routines in the very small space that was dedicated to the blue-eyed combatant. Without his psionic blades, Bur'klok found it rather difficult to practice his combat regulars. Although this truly grieved him, Bur'klok knew he would probably never be able to use them again, either.

This was not what confused the Zealot, though, for there was an unusually large amount of noise emitting from on top of him, where the ship's gym was located. Bur'klok wondered what could cause so much commotion, ever since he heard the good Matriarch of the Dark Templar passed away a week ago, for the Protoss usually spent a month or two in silence with the death of a character as important as Raszagal. Quickly, Bur'klok stopped thinking and returned to rehearsing his battle techniques.

"In youuuur heaaaaaart, we laaaaaaaay our peaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace!!!!!"

Hundreds of Zealots gave Kurt Belek an ovation. For the past week, the Zealots and remaining men, including the ones that were hit by the plague –which medics luckily found a cure for- had successfully transformed the Ganthritor's recreational training gym to an ice rink. The Protoss sports required some very technologically advanced accessories, such as hover balls or virtual reality nets. However, fatigued of their ancient sports and anxious to learn about new ones, the Protoss accepted to allow humanity to teach them a few sports of their own. The ice rink was constructed in order to teach the first-born the art of hockey.

Belek, although he was a hockey player himself, sang the national anthem for nearly each game. Of course, the colossal man was not the best singer in the galaxy, but the Protoss always enjoyed his singing. At first, the Protoss simply watched as the two human teams played, the Moria Stingrays and the Moria Hellraisers, but eventually made a few teams of their own. The reason why it took some time for the First-Born to actually join in was because they were shocked at the physical contact. They were firm believers that violence should only be used when it was absolutely necessary.

On the other side, most Zealots could not deny that knowing the most advanced fighting techniques, they lusted for battle. Hockey offered the physical freedom they longed for. In fact, a particularly tall Zealot named Kashire spent most of his time in the penalty box for crosschecking. It was true that the Protoss really took advantage of their amazing height. Luckily for the humans, they were still far more familiar with the sport then the First-Born were, otherwise they would be crushed like bugs.

"Thanks, Obrut." Said Feodora, speaking to a gentle pink-eyed Zealot with dark green skin.

The Protoss in charge of the hockey rink's reception bowed his head. Obrut had known Feodora for quite some time, for she would often come to the hockey games held on the Ganthritor to watch Kurt and Rodger play. Josart was also on the team, but having run away from Feodora's polite introduction, she was concerned about the man. She entered the arena to see the stands full of Zealots and non-participating men. She sat down next to an obese man laughing loudly with a Protoss warrior of the same corpulence. The sight gave an idea to Feodora. Maybe there could be mixed teams of men and Protoss alike, as well? It was definitely a good idea, and she would have to talk about it to Fenix, who watchfully enjoyed and organized most of the hockey games, unable to play.

Feodora then looked at the current lineup, looking for her boyfriend, but could not find him. She stood up to cheer for Kurt, however, for he was handling the puck very well, getting past the opposing Zealot's hockey stick and charging towards the rival team's net. The young woman quickly put her hand over her mouth, however, when Kashire clotheslined Kurt. She took a deep breath as she heard the referee call a penalty against the remarkably tall Protoss. She childishly skipped down to the glass to see if her friend was all right. Kurt was getting up slowly, and the medic sighed of relief when she noticed he was chuckling.

"Psst!" she called him to the glass. "Over here!"

Kurt skated to her location and yelled loudly, to cover the cheering crowd's screams.

"You might want to take a look at my jaw after the match!"

Feodora giggled, then she said:

"I don't know where Rodger is. Did you see him, or did he hurt his knees again?"

The dark-haired man's blue eyes widened as he yelled aggressively:

"What?? You shot Rodger because he's thin and he ate your cookies??"

Feodora understood: She was not speaking loud enough and Kurt could not hear a word she was saying. So she screamed on the top of her usually quiet and melodic voice:

"I don't know where Rodger is. Did you see him?"

Kurt laughed at his own mistake, and then gave the healer an answer.

"Nope, he's not playing today. He has a reunion at the council with Aldaris and Zeratul, as well as Arcturus Mengsk. If you hurry, you may get to catch him on his way out."

The medic tapped the glass appreciatively and ran out of the hockey rink.

"What about my jaw??" called Belek, a bit disappointed.

He did not have time to say more. The puck met the end of his stick, and another Zealot pounded him against the glass.

Feodora left the ice rink in haste. She was anxious to talk to Rodger about the secret meeting he had hidden from even her. As she left the recreational area of the ship, she encountered Josart Lamont once again.

"Hey Jo, how are you doing today? How come you're not playing?"

The short brown-eyed man froze into place and yelled on top of his lungs:

"Aahhhh!! It's her again!! MUAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" and he took off running as fast as a speeding bullet.

Feodora rubbed her chin nervously, thinking about what Rod said about him. He said it was normal, but twice in a row seemed a bit strange. She decided she would talk to him about it, as soon as she found him. So Feodora continued her quick walk towards the conference room.

The conference had been on for some time. Rodger was a bit exhausted for giving his opinion on many things. Luckily, there were several fluorescent Protoss drinks at the ready. In time, the diminished new council, consisted of Aldaris, Rodger, Fenix and Arcturus Mengsk, came up with the plan. The Uraj and Khalis lay calmly on the table, emitting a bright light and a piercing sound with their great energies combined. The council had their battle plan. They would depart for Zerus, home of the Overmind, now known by the humans as "Char". They would establish a strike plan once they would be in orbit with the great fiery planet. For now, the only thing they could do was set a course for Zerus.

The journey would take very long, almost three months, for it would prove dangerous to execute a hyperspace jump with the Ganthritor, as many foreign human technologies were on board. The Protoss thought it unsafe if they warped with the humans on board, and they wanted to avoid the worst. Rodger noticed something odd during the meeting however. Arcturus was back to his old, cold and uncaring self, but that was not what intrigued him. It seemed to the marine that the hazel-eyed Emperor was constantly trying to kick in a comment, but either Fenix or Aldaris would always interrupt him. He must have been trying to say something important, for he tried to say it several times.

Despite Rodger's confusion over Arcturus, the council was dismissed, convinced that taking the long road to Zerus was the right thing to do. Protoss reinforcements would make hyperspace jump from Shakuras once they arrived. So, Rod left the room in a hurry, content that the council, even without the aid of the wise Raszagal, came with an idea so quickly. He left the room but was knocked to the ground as a green object leapt upon him. At first, the dark green-eyed man was a bit afraid until he realised that it was only his girlfriend wearing his own hockey jearsey. As the two rested on the ground onto each other, Rodger laughed joyfully but then pushed Feodora aside, kissed her on the cheek and told her what was the reason of her odd behaviour.

"I was just wondering where you were. I mean, you weren't with Kurt or Josart at the hockey game." She asked.

"Well, it's a very important meeting, Feo. We just established our plan to attack the Overmind. We're setting a course for Zerus, its homeworld, where we presume it retreated after our failed attempt to destroy it on Moria."

Feodora laughed jovially at the complex vocabulary her boyfriend had just used.

"Being with the Protoss so much isn't such a good idea after all, hehehe! You're talking just like them now!"

The olive-eyed marine smiled then frowned very deeply and roared:

"Entaro Adun! I am Judicator Aldaris! I've been sent by the Council to terminate youuuuuu!"

The blonde-haired woman laughed as her love leapt on her and mimicked a Zealot activating his psionic blades.

"Entaro Tassadar!"

The emerald eyed lit up with excitement as she pretended to take out a Gauss rifle and fire on her boyfriend. Rodger fell on his side, acting as if he had been really shot in the shoulder. He then weakly stood up and chased after Feodora yelling roughly:

"I will dispose of you, DISPOSE OF YOUUUUUU!! ALL HUMANS ARE TYRANTS!!"

Feodora laughed hysterically as Rodger chased her in the halls of the Ganthritor. The couple weren't worried about disturbing anyone, for nearly every single soul was attending or participating in the hockey game. A few Zealots remained in the hallways but they laughed cheerfully watching the young humans playing their game. Eventually, Rod cought on to his prey and gently brought her to the ground in a tight hug from behind. The chase ended with Feodora sitting amorously on Rodger's lap while he was gently touching the necklace he had forged for her. She was now rarely seen without it.

As the two were in a tight embrace, Zeratul the Prelate walked by. His orange eyes demonstrated a vast amount of fatigue. The beautiful young woman was the first one to speak.

"Zeratul! Hi! Aren't you at the hockey game?"

Zeratul shook his head, saying he was on his way to the ship's cafeteria to eat, for he had just been attending the Dark Templar trials for a new chief.

"Sounds interesting! You can tell us all about that at the cafeteria! I'm getting hungry, can we go, Fee-Fee?" asked Rodger.

She nodded happily, realizing her own stomach was growling. Zeratul simply shook his head at the corniness of the nickname "Fee-Fee" and accepted their company.

The cafeteria looked somewhat similar to the large food courts found on some of Moria's shopping facilities. There were several different counters each with a specialty available. Zeratul went to the "Scimaroth" counter, to get a light meal with a large amount of calcium while Rodger and Feodora helped themselves to the only human counter in the cafeteria. It was not because the pair disliked the Protoss cookings. They actually enjoyed them very much, but they were hungry for something they were more familiar with at the moment.

The little troupe moved to a neat table in the near-empty cafeteria and began eating.

"So tell us about the trials Zeratul." Requested Rodger.

Zeratul placed his large hands on the table and started his tale.

"The trials have begun. Many Dark Templar are nominated for the post of Matriarch and Patriarch. I, myself, having defended the Matriarch for several years, have submitted my name to be the next leader of my people."

A large, bright smile spread across Rod's face at those words.

"Really? Well allow me to wish you the best of luck, old friend!"

Zeratul accepted the call warmly, but demonstrated little appreciation. The Dark Templar was still very distressed by the loss of his Matriarch. He did feel a bit anxious about the oncoming trials. Zeratul always felt a bit envious of Raszagal's command over their people. Now, finally, perhaps he could actually fulfill his dream. For a little while, there was only silence as the trio ate quietly. Eventually, Zeratul broke the silence by rubbing his chin and saying:

"There is still something quite amiss here. I still cannot believe that Raszagal would have… wait. Have you heard?"

Feodora and Rodger looked at each other in confusion, unsure what their friend was talking about. Zeratul decided to go on.

"Our Matriarch actually commanded that the expeditionary forces on Braxis would be abandoned, believing the signal we received from the planet's surface was not the Uraj. Normally, if Raszagal noticed such a mistake, she would have brought you back. Maybe Aldaris was right after all. Maybe she was getting too old for her duties…"

Rodger got up from her chair and spun around in circles, outraged. He felt terrible. He always looked at the Matriarch with the greatest admiration and respect, but now? She had betrayed him! She had condemned him, Kurt, and all his comrades to die a horrible death! Pressing on his head with his hands, Rod kept walking around the table, angrier than confused. The young woman stopped her boyfriend in his torment, and had him have a seat. Then, she asked Zeratul a question.

"How was this order transmitted to Aldaris? You said something about Aldaris saying she was old…?"

Zeratul nodded his head:

"Indeed. Aldaris brought me a letter written by the Matriarch herself, telling all to abort the mission on Braxis."

Feodora seemed petrified. Her delicate skin became paler, and she weakly asked:

"D… Do you still have the letter?"

The Prelate nodded, and retrieved the letter from his coat and gave it to the medic. Feodora and Rodger went through the letter quickly together, but then the calm emerald eyes exploded into fury.

"That's a lie!! Raszagal can't even write a letter! She forgot how!!"

Zeratul, angered by the Feodora's lack of politeness got up as well and shouted back:

"Raszagal was one of the most powerful minds in the galaxy, Rodger's love! Do not disturb her sleeping soul by saying this nonsense about her! Adun forgive you for you foolishness!"

The medic wasted no time. She shot back an answer before the orange-eyed Protoss knew what hit him.

"I tell you, she cannot write!"

"You can't prove anything! I have known Raszagal long before you, young medic!"

"Haven't you noticed how long it has been since her last writings?"

"I don't think that matters!!" yelled Zeratul, very aggressively.

By that time, Hertubiz had retreated to under one of the tables as all the cafeteria attendants stared at the graceful medic and the noble Prelate.

"IT DOES MATTER!! WHAT KIND OF BODYGUARD ARE YOU??"

"I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO, HUMAN! WHY MUST YOU PERSIST IN SAYING I DID NOT DO WHAT I WAS BORN TO DO???"

The marine became aware that his own fear was ridiculous, so he stood on the table and stomped his feet.

"STOP IT!! STOP IT!! STOP ITTTTTTTTTT!!!"

He stomped his foot so hard the table crumbled under his feet. Feodora and Zeratul looked at each other in confusion. Feodora exploded into hysterical laughter, while Zeratul let out a quiet chuckle. The Dark Templar helped Rodger to his feet, as he murmured grudgingly:

"Why does it always end like that?"

Meanwhile, Feodora had nearly doubled over in laughter, but was soon next to her boyfriend, kissing his shoulder happily.

"I wish we had that on video tape…" said Rod, smiling. "I'm pretty sure I looked like a complete moron."

The young green-eyed woman looked shocked.

"That's it! Roddy, you're a genius! Videotape! Come on, you two! I'll show you that Raszagal can't write!!"

She deposited a kiss on Rod's lips, grabbed his hand, as well as Zeratul's. Then she went for a mad sprint towards the ship's infirmary.

The trio arrived at the ship's infirmary just a few moments later. Abidabu, the master doctor of the Ganthritor, was finishing stitches on an injured Zealot who had stepped on a loose nail.

"Hi there Abidabu!" exclaimed Feodora.

The call made the doctor jump in surprise, making a mistake in his stitching and the Protoss warrior howled in pain. He gave Abidabu a frown, but allowed him to finish. The light green faced Protoss looked happily at the young woman who had scared him just a few moments ago and said:

"Good day Feodora. Have you come to help me?"

Rodger surrounded his girlfriend's neck with his arms, and stated:

"No, I don't think that's what we're here for. Feodora here just wanted some tape. She ran holding our hands, Zeratul and I, down the hall. I think she's out of her mind."

Feodora smashed her elbow against Rod's left shoulder.

"Ow!" he whined. "But that's what I love about you!"

Ignoring her lover's last comment, Feodora continued her dialogue with Abidabu.

"I'm sorry I can't help you at the moment," she said with a smile, "I'm looking for my tape recording of my visits. Can I have it?"

The tall Protoss doctor searched in his files for it, and then gave a small blue tape to Feodora with a piece of scotch tape over it that read "Feodora Martexy". Feodora smiled widely and threw the tape to Zeratul.

"This should prove me right. She told me that she couldn't write, and this is the proof."

Zeratul frowned at the small object in his hand. For a while, he had an urge to crush it within his massive hands. He decided to give the young woman a chance though, and carefully stored it in his pocket.

"I must attend to another Dark Templar meeting. I will listen to this when the time will be right. Thank you, miss Feodora. I will be off then."

The cloaked figure became invisible and disappeared somewhere in the halls of the great ship.

"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen him so convinced. Well done, Feo!" stated Rodger before planting his lips upon Feodora's.

The young woman blushed under the statement and embrace, but as she was about to speak again, the intercom rang.

"Attention Rodger Hertubiz. Attention Rodger Hertubiz. Order from Judicator Aldaris: attend to the Ganthritor's docking bay immediately."

Rodger rolled his eyes. He started walking down the halls, his girlfriend by his side, wondering what the annoying Judicator wanted with him. He was very bothered by Aldaris. Of course, when Rodger discovered the Uraj, Aldaris claimed he believed in him and humanity, but since Feodora had suspected he might be responsible for their abandon on Braxis, he grew suspicious. Rodger never fully trusted Aldaris, especially after his hostility after he was proved assimilated by the Zerg.

Suddenly, the thought returned to Rodger. He may be a Zerg creature in the next few years. He would have to tell Feodora sooner or later, but how? How would she react to such a dilemma? Rodger did not know. As he held Feodora's hand, he was wondering if he'd be able to feel that for much longer. No more questions were asked inside of Rodger's mind for the moment, for he realised he was already at the docking bay.

Judicator Aldaris' yellow eyes looked into the pairs'. The Protoss politician was not alone however. Trikko and Fenix were also inside the docking bay. Fenix walked up to Rodger and said in a friendly tone:

"Ah, the cursed radar is out again. We have some great disturbance. We're nearing a rather dangerous area, full of meteors and asteroids."

Nervously, Rod scratched his hair, fearing for the near future.

"What are you coming to?" he asked.

Aldaris amicably held Rodger by the shoulders and asked:

"We were wondering if you could go scout with your wraith for us. Just keep in radio contact and tell us if you see any meteors that should be absolutely avoided."

The young man snapped his fingers' joints, trying to get back in his pilot self. Trikko, who had been silent, came up to Rodger and whispered:

"Trikko feels Zerg presence around… Trikko tells you to be careful."

"I will." Replied Rodger, stroking his pet's ruff.

Feodora grabbed Rodger's arm calmly, and whispered:

"It's been a while since I've seen you fly. Can I fly with you again?"

"Of course!" replied the man with a smile.

The couple walked towards Rodger's wraith calmly, as if nothing would happen. Catrine took off and left the Ganthritor without delay, Rodger and Feodora on board. Trikko yelled after them:

"Watch out! There may be Zerg around you!"


	21. The barricade

Chapter twenty-one: The barricade

He loved it. They were flying right towards their doom, right towards their death, and they did not even know what was about to hit them. He chuckled at the fact that his great barricade was mistaken for mere meteorites. He chuckled at the fact that they were heading towards a most burning death, composed of acid of all kinds. His fleet would make very short work of the Ganthritor, and the Uraj and the Khalis would float in space for the centuries to come.

"At last," T'rgashi thought, the First-Born will bow to me."

"Mffffff… try to push over a little more!" bleated Rodger.

Feodora laughed loudly. It felt great to fly with Rod once again. She truly missed flight, but the company she had was what she liked the most. The pair was all bunched up in the single cockpit, and much unwanted yet pleasant physical contact was involved. The fighter flew in the open space, amongst the thousands of millions of bright stars. The stars shone in unison, adding romance to the mission. Rodger continued flight with a joyful grin on his face, as his girlfriend's head plopped against his shoulder. Her smooth hair tickled his neck, and he started to chuckle, but quickly snapped out of his dreamy state, as he remembered the mission that was appointed to them. They had to detect meteorites that may cause danger to the Ganthritor, as it would pass through this unidentified sector.

Catrine soared right by a little blue planet, surrounded by numerous asteroids. Rodger quickly pressed the button to activate the stationary thrusters. He then took out a notepad to write the description and coordinates of the dangerous meteors. While he was at work, Feodora simply stared at the blue planet and sighed.

"It's beautiful… what do you think is on that planet, Rod?"

The response came quickly.

"Uh, I don't know, Fee-Fee… probably crazy women with three tongues that have an uncontrollable hunger for cod liver oil. The vegetation is probably tiny, and most of the animals are carnivores."

Feodora looked at him with owl eyes, showing her lack of comprehension.

"I just don't know, okay?" Concluded Rodger with a small smile.

Then the medic completely changed the subject:

"Rod? Do you remember Bur'klok?"

Rodger shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, that little treacherous shit. He stabbed you, remember?"

Feodora shook her head, saying it was not Bur'klok the culprit.

"I found a bullet within myself. Bur'klok, having no knowledge on how to fire a gun, cannot be guilty."

Rodger glowered at the comment.

"Maybe he learned how, then!"

Although Feodora could have pointed out the fact that the proof of Bur'klok's guilt, the symbol on his psionic blades, was irrevelant, due to because they were not used during the abuse, she said nothing. She did, however, give him the bullet she found in herself. Rod looked at it, muttered a bit and stuffed it in his pocket to keep Feodora happy, and managed to smile himself. The cockpit then fell silent for a while, until Rodger finally stated there were no large meteors that could pose a threat to the Protoss warship.

Quite the perfectionist, Feodora scanned the horizon nervously with her emerald eyes, making sure Rod had made no mistake.

"Ha!" she yelled. "What about those?"

Rodger looked at where his girlfriend was energetically pointing. He grabbed some binoculars and looked. He saw several forms for sure. They did not look like scorched pieces of rock, though. They were far too numerous, and most especially, they weren't moving. Meteors always hover in space, either orbiting or floating around helplessly. Three of the strange forms seemed to become larger.

"They're heading this way. They aren't meteors, Feodora. I… I can't tell what they are." Rodger said, a tone of anxiety and concern in his voice.

He looked again, and the shapes became clearer. They were moving in a strange fashion, in a way that resembled birds flapping their wings. Rodger blinked heavily, wiped his eyes, and looked again. There was no mistake: they were flapping their wings, and they were coming closer. The strange shapes became clearer and clearer, and finally, as he thought he saw a tail that went upwards and reminded him of a scorpion's, the pilot understood. He yelled so loudly that Feodora gave a start and banged her head against the solid cockpit.

"Mutalisks!!"

Feodora didn't even have time to complain about her new headache. Her hand went for the radio emitter as fast as lightning and called to the Ganthritor.

"Mayday! Mayday! We may have a large force of Mutalisks heading this way! Mayday! "

Fenix's voice returned, with a certain tone of horror in his voice.

"Message received."

Meanwhile, Rodger had the time to take a second look at the Mutalisks, and was terrified as he noticed that the entire "asteroid belt" was consisted of flying Zerg creatures.

"Brace yourself, love." Quickly said Rodger.

The wraith became mobile once again, and it made a large U-turn to return to the warship. Dread soon filled the cockpit: the three Mutalisks had cut their escape route.

"Is it over?? Is this how we're going to die? Oh, Rod, I don't want to die! I still want to be with you…" moaned Feodora, on the edge of tears.

The feeling of sadness soon crept on to Rodger, as his eyes felt liquidy as well. He stroked his lover's long hair, and said:

"I wish it didn't have to end this way too," His other hand reached for Feodora's, and he continued: "It's been nearly only a week since you've been with me again, but that week seemed like a second. If I could turn time backwards, I would have stayed on Moria. I would have stayed with you, just you. The Ganthritor was too dangerous for us…"

Rodger suddenly halted and grasped his head toughly: T'rgashi was speaking to him.

"You fool. You could have not hoped to mount an attack against the invincible Overmind. Now, you will die, Rodger Hertubiz. Farewell."

The malevolent laugh was heard within the terrorized man's head. The medic, touched by Rod's words of love, but worried about his sudden halt, asked:

"Rod, are you alright?"

"It's nothing… don't worry…"

Rodger knew that he could not hide it forever, but now did not seem like the best time. The Overmind really insulted him that time, and he decided that he would fight until the bitter end. Catrine was outnumbered three to one, of course, but the dangerous acid was not yet in its systems. Plus, Captain Ray Aureus had often told him that Mutalisks' acid was not the best weapon to employ against fast moving wraiths. Rodger roared like a Zealot would:

"We're not done yet, Feodora! We have to fight!"

The young medic, believing it was hopeless, simply hugged Rod as tightly as she possibly could and then murmured:

"Do what you can…"

Under Rodger's grave frown, a small smile appeared, satisfied that his girlfriend was somewhat supportive to his aggressiveness. He hit the throttle, and at the same time, the foul Zerg creatures flew towards the fighter jet. Rod led the ship in a series of barrel rolls as the Mutalisks went in a fanatic chase after it, all in a line. As the wraith was being tailed by the three flyers, the pilot lowered its altitude by a few degrees and lowered the speed. The Mutalisks could not react in time.

They passed Catrine by a few meters, and now Rodger was in the offensive position.

"Die, you bastards!" howled the pilot as he pressed on the missile button.

Twin Gemini missiles were released from Catrine's imposing missile launchers and crashed right into the third creature's tail, exploding violently and killing it. Feodora did not look. The barrel rolls were already sickening enough for her. Rod fired again, but the remaining two Mutalisks dispatched, one went left, the other went right. Rod followed the one that went left. The pursued monster was trying hard to "shake off" his opponent, but the swift and skilled pilot followed his every move, attempting to lock on to it. The other flyer returned, and was now on Rodger's tail.

"Watch my six, watch my six!" Rodger repeated.

Feodora, confused, did not know he was referring to the ship's back. The Mutalisk behind the wraith kept launching his glave wurm recklessly. Rod was trying his best to avoid the projectiles while staying on the other flyer's tail. He suddenly had an idea. He lowered the throttle a bit to allow the Mutalisk behind him to come closer, and just when it fired its glave wurm, Rod made a summersault with his wraith. The acidic wurm collided with his own ally, and the Mutalisk that suffered friendly fire was missing a wing and flew in space, spreading life fluids in all directions.

Soon, Rodger returned and finished off the injured creature with his laser cannon. Feodora cheered wildly this time, and kissed her lover on the cheek. The celebration was short-lived, though, for the Mutalisk returned, infuriated at the tactic the human had just employed. The Zerg followed the wraith thoroughly and forced the pilot to head right into the small planet's orbital asteroid field.

"_Ohmigodohmigodohmigod…_" thought Rodger as he saw large rocks everywhere.

Feodora suddenly had an idea. She remembered that the olive-eyed man had often bragged the wraith's ability to cloak. A large black button on the control panel indicated the feature. Without hesitation, she hammered it. Catrine became as invisible as Zeratul. The Mutalisk, completely confused, kept flying forwards thinking the fighter was not far, but didn't see the meteor. The Zerg abomination crashed into it at at full speed. Its guts littered the little blue planet's orbit as well, and a large red mark decorated the meteorite, like some war medal.

"Genius! That was genius! Feodora, you astound me!" said Rodger, uncloaking the wraith, slightly away from the asteroid field, for he had flown out of it in safety.

He came upon his girlfriend with a series of embraces, but more then lips were involved this time. If the wraith had been a car, it would have been rocking insanely. The pair wanted the union of their lips to last forever, but after a few minutes, Feodora pushed Rodger back.

"The Ganthritor! We have to get back! The entire Zerg fleet is still after it!"

Rodger was a bit thwarted by the end of the "recess", but he knew the wise medic was right. He put the throttle back to full power and the wraith returned to the warship as quickly as the wind.

When the wraith docked once again, alarms were ringing inside the ship. Rod leapt out of the cockpit and helped Feodora come out too. The first soul they encountered was Trikko. He rushed towards them and spoke.

"Trikko told you the Zerg was near! Quick! The enemy fleet will be here in moments! Let's go to the command deck!"

The marine and the medic followed the creature down towards the command deck. They had never been in that room before. When they got there, Fenix greeted them. The Dragoon looked worried, but he was not the only one. Around the room, several groups, including Aldaris and Arcturus Mengsk, were busy pressing buttons and adjusting weapon systems. The large globe that was the ship's command area gave a view on the open space. Control pannels were in the room everywhere.

Uh oh, here they come now!" exclaimed Rodger as small brownish dots were distinguished in the horizon.

"What kind of weaponry does this warship have exactly?"

Fenix looked at Rodger, concern everywhere in his voice.

"We have about twenty Pulsary Laser cannons, but they're made to destroy slow moving transports, like Overlords, and capital ships… I'm not sure how well they will work against speedy enemies like Mutalisks."

The command deck's exit opened and Kurt and Josart entered the room.

"Rod!" called Kurt.

"This could prove quite lethal, so in case I don't survive this, I just wanted to say farewell."

Rodger smiled weakly at Kurt and nodded his head. He was still certain that they would win. He surrounded Feodora's shoulder with an arm as Kurt moved to be next to him. Josart, however, was frozen into place. Feodora looked at him and met his terrified glance.

"Hi…" she said, deciding to try one more time.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Josart yelled before sprinting as far as possible from the command deck. Kurt laughed and repeated Rodger's statement, saying this was very normal. Still, Lamont's presence troubled the medic, and she did not know what to think. It was not the time for thinking either. The brownish dots now showed very clearly the forms of many Mutalisks. Aldaris, as close as possible to the command glass, snickered evilly.

"We're in range. Battle stations! Fire!"

Several great beams of blue light, extremely thick and shining flew through the space. Numerous Mutalisks were reduced to pieces of ash. They flew wickedly, avoiding the vicious lights. It was difficult indeed for the lasers to reach the flyers, and many of them got at close range and lobbed their glave wurm at the warship. It bounced several time on its surface, but the defensive plasma shields foiled the damage. The Ganthritor had a very large amount of plasma shields, as such was very difficult to damage. The Zerg birds flew and flew all around, and fired. Hundreds of wurms hit home, but had little effect against the shield.

Occasionally, the laser beams would find a Mutalisk and vaporize it. It was very hard now, for only about thirty Mutalisks remained, and they avoided hanging around in groups. They flew separately, almost on their own. On the command deck, everyone seemed chilled.

"Shield percentage?" Aldaris called to a Zealot wearing earphones.

"89, Judicator."

At the response, the yellow-eyed Protoss laughed.

"Pathetic Zerg. Is that all you can do?"

The Zerg were merely playing with the Protoss. The real offence was making its way towards the warship: A few Mutalisks and a good fifty scourges. The Mutalisks howled in their high pitch voice, giving the lesser flyers an order. Half of the scourge flew high and the other half went straight. As for the ten leading Mutalisks, they joined their brethren in battle, although these new flyers seemed stronger and easily avoided the lasers.

Although it was very hard to target, the reinforcements did everything they could to fire at the command deck. Although the shield surrounded the entire ship, once it would be gone, if they could strike the command deck, everyone inside would be slaughtered by the projectiles. Inside the commanding space, nobody noticed the new smaller flyers, unknown to both the Protoss and the humans. They could hardly see them, for they were much smaller than Mutalisks.

"Should I direct the laser beams towards the new enemy?" asked the same Zealot who had made a report on the shielding a while ago.

Aldaris shrugged his shoulders and replied:

"Bah, they're very small. What could they possibly do against us?"

So the Ganthritor went on doing everything it could to hit the Mutalisks. It was a big mistake.

The laser cannons accidentally fried some scourges, but at least fifteen of the first half remained. They headed straight for the Ganthritor, then lowered their altitude, and flew at full speed, screeching defiantly. The fastest one made contact with the warship, and exploded in a green light that absolved much of the plasma shielding. The remaining scourge did the same, slamming themselves in the hulls of the ship and exploding.

The first half of the scourge invaders was no more, but the results were very disappointing for the defenders.

"Sir!" exclaimed the Zealot. "Our shields are down to 12!"

Aldaris, as well as the entire room, looked at him and gasped.

"We'll be taking true damage soon!"

"Target the small foes!" Aldaris exclaimed loudly.

Rodger, Kurt, Feodora, Fenix and Trikko scanned the horizon for more of the evil flyers.

"There does not seem to be any more." Quoted Kurt.

Fenix suggested leaving a few canons ready to fry any of the creatures that may attempt to kamikaze in the Ganthritor, and all agreed.

The scourges weren't gone though. They could not see them because they were so high up in space, in a straight line with the warship. The foul blind terrors headed for the top of the great Protoss vessel, where no canons could hit them. It was a good idea that the Mutalisks came up with. The screechers hollered for a long while before they crashed violently in the top of the ship. The blue layer of defence disappeared for good, and a few scourges even made a hole in the reinforced plating of the ship.

"Shield is gone!!"

Rodger nearly fell unconscious. Blasts now shook the Ganthritor hard. It was the Mutalisks' acid that actually began taking effect. Almost everywhere, the ship was taking shattering hits. Food spilt everywhere in the cafeteria. Large particles of ceiling littered the ice rink. Many fine crystals imprinted on the walls of the halls exploded into tiny fragments. Layers of petrid gases appeared from the Ganthritor's pipelines. In his prison, Bur'klok, the supposed assassin, sat in a ball in the corner of the room, protecting his head. The laser bars that formed his prison faded a bit, but the Zealot was too preoccupied by the attack to attempt an escape. He, as well as many other prisoners, thought his time had come. Even in the command deck, the glass that allowed the commanders to view the battle began getting flawed.

A particularly large blast sent Trikko, Kurt, Feodora and Rodger slipping away to the edge of the room, as the entire Ganthritor leaned to the left. In all the chaos, Fenix noticed the genuine barricade approach at the horizon. It consisted of over fifty Mutalisks and another dozen scourges. The Dragoon knew perfectly well that if those kamikazes made it home, it was all over for them. Even if they were somehow fried by the laser canons, the remaining Mutalisks would make short work of the warship. The lasers fried about nine of the incoming Mutalisks, but despair filled the command room. There was no hope.

"We're all goners!!" exclaimed Kurt as a bottle of rhum fell on his head.

"Trikko told you there were Zerg in the area!" the beast shouted again.

"Shut up!" retorted Kurt.

Rodger frowned at Kurt for the lack of respect towards his pet, but he knew he was probably right. It seemed hopeless. At a blinding speed, the scourges came closer and closer. Then they all exploded. Guided missiles had struck each of them. Everyone in the command deck rubbed their eyes and some pinched themselves to see if they were dreaming. It was no dream, for the scourges were no more. Arcturus seemed very calm about the happening. He pointed to the very left of the observing glass. Human capital ships, known as Battlecruisers, were coming, at least fifteen. They were the ones who fired those guided missiles and rid the Ganthritor of the scourges. That was not all. They also shot ATS laser batteries, which were just as accurate as a wraith's laser, but five times as powerful, albeit slower. Three shots of this laser would make a Mutalisk melt extremely fast.

The Mutalisks retaliated, moving towards their new opponents. Guided missiles exploded into action again. Each one found a target, and soon, all that remained of the blockade was blood and bones. Rodger walked towards the observing glass where Mengsk stood with a small smile and a chilled attitude.

"How… How did those Battlecruisers make it here?"

Arcturus looked at the marine and said with an evil grin:

"Oh, you remember that council reunion we had not so long ago, and I was trying to say something but I would always be interrupted? This was it. I was trying to add that I had called Battlecruiser reinforcements just before we left Moria."

Rodger saluted his Emperor militarily.

"You've thought well, my Emperor."

He then walked away quickly, to be with Feodora and Kurt, both on the edge of having a stroke. Trikko and Fenix seemed a bit calmer, and they chattered about the damage they may have taken. The sight was most pleasant to Rodger, for it appeared Trikko had made a friend during the strike on Braxis. He held Feodora close, and for a long time. Kurt smiled at him, and decided to leave the room. Trikko came close to his master with a grin and said:

"Trikko and Fenix will try to fix what they can in the Ganthritor. Trikko will see you later."

Rodger nodded happily. The metal arachnid and Trikko departed from the command desk as well. Rod was left alone with Feodora, for the Zealots were too busy making the damage bias. She felt a bit numb in his arms, however, and when he tried to back away, her eyes were close and her mouth was open. The marine laughed silently: his girlfriend had fallen asleep in his arms, probably exhausted from the emotion. He picked her up gently and took her to her room in the deepest of silence. When he rested her on her bed, he took a deep breath of relief; the Ganthritor had survived.


	22. Disclosure of treachery

Chapter twenty-two: Disclosure of treachery

They were more of a threat then he thought. The barricade he had formed with so much time and effort was little help. The great human capital ships were more than a match for a second barricade, so he thought it useless to try it. He already had dispatched Daggoth into finding new breeds of Zerg on the other side of the galaxy, using genetically altered Zerg worms to assimilate the wanted creatures nearly fifty times as quick. T'rgashi began to regret he did not employ these new Zerg worms to assimilate humanity, for he would have Generals behind enemy lines.

Rodger Hertubiz as well as a handful of other humans was being assimilated, of course; but it would still take very long for them to truly obey him. If the Ganthritor, hauling the dangerous Xel'Nagian crystals, arrived on Zerus, the Overmind could face some very serious problems. He prayed Rodger would attend each council reunion, for that way, he would be able to know their every move. The evil eye looked into the void of the cosmos. They would come, he knew. It was inevitable.

Helped by many of the numerous humans that were on board the Battlecruisers, the Ganthritor was getting repaired. It had been three days since the warship was being fixed, and it would most likely be ready to go the same day. Rodger, in a space man suit, along with Kurt, were fixing the outer-plating.

"Pass me that volt screwdriver." Asked Rodger.

His dark-haired friend tossed the thing in the air, and it floated slowly until it reached Rod's hand.

"We're about what, two months and a half away from the planet Char now? That's not so bad." Continued Kurt.

Rod nodded his head, and then asked his friend if he had seen Josart since the attack. Kurt replied that he did not.

"Still, he's been acting kind of weird lately. He's too… too serious!" said the colossal man.

Again, the olive-eyed man agreed.

"He ran away from Feodora three times, two of those times I was with her. I'm afraid this expedition is doing him no good. I hope he'll be back to his normal self."

The comrades went on in fixing the warship. Kurt's estimation proved to be correct; the engines were activated three hours later.

It was the third time he listened to the tape. Zeratul rubbed his chin the whole way. Feodora seemed to be right. Raszagal had clearly said: "For instance, it has been over a two years since I have written anything. I can read just fine, but I do not remember how to formulate most Protoss letters anymore" in the tape recording. This left the Prelate in a sad state as well, however. Why then, had Aldaris lied to him? And what really happened? The Matriarch did not sound ill at all in the tape recording even though Aldaris had said she was violently ill. And, being her bodyguard, he would have known. She died while he was on Braxis.

Unable to think anymore, Zertaul covered his head with his great hands. The door to his room opened, suddenly, and a young, smiling woman entered the room. Zeratul, in return, looked at the spirited medic with his carroty eyes in a way that demonstrated much affability. She sat next to him and asked:

"So, have you listened to the tape yet?"

Zeratul nodded. Something else troubled him, and he let Feodora know. During the conversation, Feodora and Raszagal had also spoken of her own assailant. It was clear that it could not have been a Protoss, and the Prelate wished to free Bur'klok as soon as possible, but he did not have the authority to do so. Now that Raszagal was gone, it was Aldaris who was first in command. If he became the Patriarch of the Dark Templar, he would be able to free him. Zeratul had to attend to another one of the Dark Templar's trials, so he left Feodora, who decided to stay and listen to the tape a few times to try and detect evidence. As he walked away, Zeratul met Rodger in the hallway.

"Entaro Raszagal."

They both said at the same time. Rodger smiled, but Zeratul did not return his optimism. Rodger asked where he could find the corpse of Raszagal, for he wanted to pay respects. Zeratul told him the Protoss had locked her in her room, exactly as she was found, and gave Rodger the key. Rod thanked his friend, but asked him if she would be decaying, for he had no intention in releasing a stench in the ship.

"Fear not," reassured Zeratul. "We Protoss do not rot. We are of the purest of essence, but eventually we burn into blue flames, depending on how we passed away."

Content, the messy-haired man left immediately, reached Raszagal's door, opened it, and entered.

"Raszagal…" Rodger said, removing his helmet.

He sat down next to her and smiled. She looked so peaceful. It truly seemed that her departure from life was painless. Nearly ten minutes passed, with Rodger simply looking where the round, golden eyes had glowed with so much vigour. A bit later, he told the fallen Matriarch of Arcturus' affection for her, although he presumed that wherever she was, she had heard the Emperor's voice the first time.

As he stood to leave, Rodger noticed something strange about the body. Her arms were dangling on the sides of her bed, and he thought it quite inharmonious. So he took her arm with the deepest of respect and put it on her stomach, like most human corpses lie. He jumped in surprise, though, for when he placed her arm on her belly, he felt it was strangely hollow. He removed the blanket covering her, and to his agony and shock, a hole was implanted in her stomach.

A murder! The hole looked exactly the same as the ones Rodger had seen in the Hydralisk that day his platoon was attacked by the Protoss. This meant Psionic Blades had killed her. Alarmed and feeling a bit nauseous, Rod backed up a few steps, and then ran. When he got to his room, he threw up again and again.

Trikko was in Rodger's room, having done a fair deal of repairing when the warship was still damaged. Quickly, the creature was next to his master, asking him what was wrong. Rodger had much difficulty explaining to the Hydralisk what he had seen, for after every three words or so, he would throw up again. His point was made eventually. Trikko was also concerned about this sudden change of events.

"Trikko will go tell Fenix! The news must be spread!"

Rodger agreed, and feebly got up. He wanted to tell someone too, but whom? Zeratul was attending the Dark Templar trial, and he surely did not want to interrupt. Feodora was listening to the tape, he knew. She had told him this morning. Kurt was sleeping, for he had hardly slept during the time the Ganthritor was being repaired, and Rod definitely knew how much of a grouch Kurt would be should he be awakened without his consent. Just when he thought he had no one to talk to about this terrible happening, he remembered the goof.

Josart! Of course! He hardly saw him anymore, but he would listen. As Trikko slithered away as fast as he could, Rodger started to jog, seemingly unaffected by his upset stomach.

Josart lay on his bed, reading a magazine.

"Aaaaaaaaaah…" he sighed looking at the "beautiful" pictures of the women in his weekly book.

Unexpectedly, his door flew open, and his old friend, Rodger Hertubiz, entered. He seemed out of breath. He lowered his head and chest and held on to his knees for a while, and then he rose again, and said:

"J…Josart! Raszagal! It was no natural cause! She was murdered! Aldaris lied again!"

The brown eyes filled with fright. How had he discovered? Was the entire scheme revealed? Jo sat back on his bed, holding his forehead.

"Terrible news, man, terrible news…" the shorter fellow said, returning to his magazines.

Angered, Rodger seized the magazine and screeched:

"Hey, don't look at your pornography when I'm talking to you!"

He grabbed Josart's night table's drawer and threw the "July" issue of the magazine inside. He began to continue on how he found the Matriarch's maimed body until a strange object within the drawer gained his attention. It was a short, brown, shape, with a trigger and a barrel. It looked like a pistol; only it was obviously of Protoss origin, for it bared several strange designs and lovely crystals. Rodger looked at it with great suspicion. He opened the clip of bullets, and took one out singularly.

Quickly, he went for the one Feodora had given him that day they were sent scouting for meteorites. He looked at the one with no gunpowder inside, the one his girlfriend had shown him, and then the one he had found just a few minutes ago. His mouth opened with disbelief: the two were identical. The gestures, including the comparison of the bullets, were unnoticed by Lamont, so Rodger decided to try something bold. Quickly, he held the Protoss gun and showed it to his friend.

"Is this yours, Josart?"

Jo looked a bit worried, for it was unlike Rodger to look in his stuff without his approval, but he answered:

"Yeah, it's my p'stol. Aldaris made it for me when we'll go attack the Overmind on Zerus."

Rodger was much disfigured at this reply. His teeth gritted, and he dropped the two bullets. His hands formed into fists. Veins appeared in his neck. Josart opened his innocent brown eyes wide, but their innocence did not fool the furious man. Rodger exploded into a cloud of uncontrollable anger.

"YOU!! YOU SHOT FEODORA!! IT WASN'T BUR'KLOK! IT WAS YOU!! MY TRUSTED FRIEND!!"

It all made sense to Rod now: Josart's evasive moves whenever he would see Feodora, Feodora's theory on Bur'klok's innocence…He could not contain his fury. He went on:

"BACKSTABBING SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME, BOY!!?"

He rushed upon his unsuspecting "friend" and hammered him in the face with one of his iron-like fists. Jo fell to the ground, and the raging pilot kicked him in the stomach, causing him to fall flat on it. With a tight grasp, he flipped him around to see his face, and hit it. The blows came fast and hard. Josart felt the burn of his own blood all over his face, and the stings of more and more strikes upon it. As Rod brought both his fists together to deliver the killing blow, he stopped his frenzy, and fell backwards on his gluteus maximus. What was he doing? He got close to killing one of his oldest of friends. His hands shook with remorse, but he could not deny his anger.

He got up, shaking wildly, and said:

"I…I…I'm sorry Josart… I…I… I didn't mean to go so hard on you, ba… but you have to un…understand tha…that I love Feodora very, very much…You can't take her away because she's so close to me, or because I love her so. Feodora and I, God knows how long it can last, but I really feel like she is the one. Don't come between us again, please… I forgive you for your attempt of murder, and… and I'm very sorry about… about what I just did…"

His legs were not very stable, and he fell on the ground again. Green eyes met the brown ones. Josart passed a hand on his blood stained visage. The auburn orbs looked at Rodger without anger, or hate, or thoughts of vengeance. Josart found that his friend's attack against him had inserted within him a sort of reason: the same reason Kurt and Rodger had tried to show him. He never did give Feodora a chance. No, instead, he fled whenever he saw her. This was not the real way of dealing with a problem, and exterminating her was not the solution either. He had turned to Aldaris for an answer, and he had accepted his suggestions to the point where he agreed to assassinate the medic. The Judicator had clouded his mind.

Josart got up without much trouble, and smiled with his blood stained lips.

"Sorry man. I never meant to be such an asshole. I should have never felt bitter towards your girlfriend. Heck, I never even met her. It's just… It's just that we lost our home because we had no medics… I feel resentment towards them…"

Rodger, still on the ground, stated weakly:

"Maybe so… but look at it this way… we got our North back. Only humans and a few Zerg from other Broods occupy Moria. The Talos, our nemesis, was wiped out. It's just like before, only we're on a crazy adventure."

Jo never thought of that, of course. He was not exactly the most thoughtful person alive. He looked low, and then added with sobs in his voice:

"Forgive me, Roddy-boy…"

Rodger stood, and could not stand to see his friend crying. Quickly he came to him and held him in his arms. Jo was a bit confused, but nevertheless happy his friend forgave him for his horrible crime. Rodger thought the same, only he was glad Jo forgave him for beating him up. Not concerned at all about anything else around them, the two friends remained in the room, gaily embraced. Jo then backed away to go wash his face. Rod sat on his pal's bed, waiting for him. When the freckled man returned, the wounds on his face were hardly visible. From close, one could distinguish a few bruises and cracks in his skin, but from where Rodger sat, it hardly showed.

Josart sat next to his friend, a sad look on his face.

"Roddy-boy, I'm real sorry… see, all I wanted was to spend more time with you, but I couldn't. When you went on Braxis, I thought you'd come back a changed man. One who forgot about Feodora."

Jo frowned a bit but then thought of something. It just hit him like a fastball. How could he have not known before? Why did Aldaris want humanity to handle the operation on Braxis, except for him? And why had he feigned the Matriarch's handwriting, ordering to abandon the expeditionary forces? It was for the same goal: to get rid of Rodger! Aldaris swore on the night they met that he would only help him get rid of Feodora, but the Judicator was dedicated to make all humans disappear, perhaps even him!

In the blink of an eye, Josart told his pilot friend everything he knew about Aldaris' schemes. How he faked the Matriarch's handwriting, how he framed the innocent Bur'klok, and his plan to abandon the expedition on Braxis. Rodger growled. He knew the Judicator was a turncoat!

"And here's the best part of it all!" exclaimed Josart. "Well… Aldaris is the one who killed Raszagal! It was also part of his scheme to take over the throne! He told me that if I failed in killing Feodora, he would order her execution after he was supreme leader of the Protoss! I trusted him, but that son of a bitch just lied to me!"

Rodger was in disbelief. He knew that the Judicator was a traitor, but he would never believe he was twisted enough to murder his wise superior, Raszagal.

"Jo… you might have just saved us all from the traitor. Thanks. Thanks a lot."

The green-haired man smiled weakly and answered:

"I had to. It's the only way I can redeem myself. But say, Roddy-boy… aren't they going to arrest me, too?"

Rod flailed his arm in a gesture that denied his friend's affirmation.

"I'll do everything in my power to keep you free! Quick, go tell Zeratul and the other Dark Templar of Aldaris' treachery! I'll deal with the Judicator myself, if possible! Tell them I will be in Aldaris' chamber! Run, Josart!"

Jo did not hesitate. He ran throughout the halls with great speed. Rod went the other way, gritting his teeth. Raszagal's death, the abandon on Braxis, the attempt of Feodora's murder, Bur'klok's imprisonnement… it was all Aldaris' fault! Wanting more than ever to exact his vengeance, he ran through the hallways.

"Don't worry, Bur'klok," he thought. "Soon, someone else will be occupying your cell…"

Aldaris was polishing his Psionic blades quietly. His plan was working perfectly, and soon, the First-Born would be rid of all mankind. He knew he would be able to slaughter Mengsk once his soldiers were no more. He was almost certain the Protoss could be converted into firm believers of the Khala as he. Before any more thoughts could fill Aldaris' dark mind, the door flew open. There stood his enemy, Rodger Hertubiz, a frown great enough to make Arcturus cower.

"You bastard!" he cried.

At that statement, Aldaris knew what had happened, and he knew he was foolish to take Josart as an ally. The Judicator stood up quietly, his yellow eyes shining.

"I see you've discovered my scheme against that fool Raszagal… Impressive. I didn't expect you so soon."

Aldaris sneered then as he activated his psionic blades.

"No matter. No one will listen to you once you are dead!"

Rodger armed his Photon Disrupter in a split second, but when he looked at where Aldaris had been there was nothing.

"What the???" a confused human shouted.

He was struck from behind. His back aching, he turned to face the Judicator. Blue smoke surrounded the traitor and he vanished again. He was warping around in the room. Rod looked everywhere for Aldaris again, but could not find him. Aldaris fell from the roof onto Rodger. Bewildered, the man looked at the navy face. Aldaris tried to sink his blades into Rodger's flesh, but his prey rolled to the left and he missed. Rodger took advantage of the time Aldaris was wasting trying to remove his weapons from the ground. He came in quickly with a far-reaching kick that slammed in the Judicator's throat. Aldaris gasped for air. He pulled out his weapons quickly, not allowing his opponent to strike again. He swished them frantically, and Rod could tell he was not a very skilled with the Protoss main weapon. The ones he had fought on Moria were so gracious and deadly, while Aldaris resembled a dancer who didn't know what he was doing.

Eventually, Rodger could not back up anymore, for there was a wall behind him.

"Ha ha ha ha! You can't avoid me forever!" laughed the evil Protoss.

He sank his left blade deep in Rodger's left shoulder, who cried in pain. Aldaris mockingly placed his second blade to the struggling man's throat, and said:

"Farewell, Rodger Hertubiz."

He could not deliver the killing blow, for a large beast pushed him aside. It was Trikko! The Hydralisk went to look for Fenix, but had not found him, apparently. He head-butted Aldaris with his massive ruff, yelling:

"Leave Rodger alone!"

He fired then fired a volley of his deadly spines towards theJudicator with an evil smile on his face. Three spikes caught Aldaris in the right shoulder. Trikko snickered antagonistically as he listened to Aldaris' pain-filled screams. The Hydralisk launched more of his natural missiles at the Protoss, catching him in the knee this time. The Judicator fell to his knees, as he felt weaker with every breath he was taking. In the meantime, Rod had regained his senses and noticed his pet was torturing Aldaris. He witnessed Trikko unleash a second furious headbutt, throwing the powerless First-Born against the wall opposite to the one the wounded Rodger was leaning against.

Blood dripped from Rod's mouth, and he had trouble breathing. He was injured, but what limiting his breath was the fact that the attacks Trikko was using against Aldaris were like any other Hydralisk's: They were cruel and sadistic. Aldaris futilely tried to stand and swing his blades at Trikko, but his great assailant viciously bit his arm, and dragged his teeth from Aldaris' bicep to his wrist, forcing him to abandon his blade. Aldaris fell on his knees again, looked at Rodger and launched a curse:

"I knew you would be the death of us all, Hertubiz! Your Zerg slave has already taken my life!"

Trikko roared at the comment:

"Trikko is nobody's slave! Die, Aldaris!"

He raised one of his natural swords, and it shone with the light of the room. Gathering every ounce of strength within him, Rod jumped to his feet, coughed up blood, but managed to shout:

"Trikko, NO!!"

Trikko stopped, as his deadly arm was about ten centimetres from Aldaris' face. He looked at his master with his beady eyes. Rod walked towards Trikko while clasping his shoulder, trying to stop the never-ending flow of his own blood.

"Don't kill Aldaris… if we kill him for killing Raszagal, we're no better than he is."

Trikko did not seem to understand, but looking at the despair on Rodger's face, he backed up. Just a few seconds afterwards, Zeratul, Josart and a handful of Zealots, obviously young Dark Templar, arrived in the room. Aldaris decided to try one last calumny.

"Zeratul! Warriors of Adun! Help me! Rodger and his pet have tried to murder me!"

It seemed to have an effect, for three Zealots moved in the room while activating their Psionic Blades, getting into fighting stance. Zeratul shouted something in the Protoss tongue and walked inside the room as well, Josart at his side.

"Your time has come, Judicator Aldaris. Your treacheries end here. I have no idea why you would betray us so, but you will pay for your crimes."

Josart nodded his head after each of Zeratul's sentences.

"This young man," the Prelate went on, indicating Josart, "has warned us of your schemes. Although he himself was involved, we will forgive him for turning himself in."

Zeratul walked closer to the traitor, and almost whispered to him:

"But murdering Raszagal, our Matriarch and my own mentor, will not go unforgiven. Seize him!"

He shouted. All the Zealots that had accompanied him grabbed Aldaris and walked towards the ship's prison. Looking at Rod's shoulder, Zeratul got worried and yelled:

"Call for a medic."

Trikko and Rodger looked at each other with a small grin. Zeratul caught a glimpse of it and understood.

"Make it a… blonde medic, about five feet and five inches with green eyes. Ah yes, and her name must start with an F."

Rodger laughed abundantly, accompanied in his laughter by his pet and his old friend Josart. At last, the sun seemed to rise in Rodger's life.

Bur'klok heard a lot of noise. The main door of the Ganthritor's prison had opened, and now Zeratul and many Zealots entered, holding Judicator Aldaris tightly. They opened the door to his cell, and threw Aldaris in. Bur'klok was confused. What was going on? Why was Aldaris being thrown in jail, literally? Not seeking to ask questions, Bur'klok turned to Aldaris and said:

"It seems we'll be cellmates..."

Zeratul stopped the young warrior in his tracks.

"No, you shall not."

Again, the blue-eyed Protoss was confused. Zeratul continued with a tone of amusement and satisfaction in his voice:

"You have been released, Bur'klok. We have accused you falsely, and for that we apologize. Rodger Hertubiz also seeks to ask forgiveness, but his injured shoulder is being healed as we speak and he could not make an appearance."

Freedom! The thing Bur'klok had never hoped for had returned to him! He jumped on his feet and ran out of the cell. Another surprise awaited the young Protoss however. Obrut, the hockey clerk, was present, and he wielded a small amulet with a pinkish stone. Obrut placed the amulet around Bur'klok's neck. The fighter looked at it dubiously. He thought he had seen it before, but where? He knew such an amulet, the Khaydarin amulet, was very prized and only found on a specific occasion, but Bur'klok was not sure for which occasion.

The Protoss crowd did not give him time to think of it through. They all shouted with respect:

"All hail Judicator Bur'klok! All allegiance to Judicator Bur'klok!"

A bit more panicked then confused now, Bur'klok bellowed:

"What is this? What's going on?"

Zeratul answered his question happily:

"Rodger Hertubiz found it was better if you took traitor Aldaris' place. It is the only thing we could do to redeem ourselves for taking your freedom. All hail Bur'klok!"

"ALL HAIL BUR'KLOK!!" The Zealot crowd repeated, including the rough voice of Fenix.

Aldaris, in prison, still weak from Trikko's attacks, simply looked up at Bur'klok, wearing the amulet. He growled and, gathering his vigour, he ran towards the entrance, but the red laser bars closed on him, and he fell to the ground, shaking wildly. Some Zealots laughed at Aldaris, more specifically friends of Feodora or Rodger. All too humble, Bur'klok started to remove his amulet, saying:

"Thank you, but I cannot… I am too young to fulfill this role."

"Nonsense!" yelled Fenix from the end of the room. "You will be the start of a new era, an era where the young Protoss can direct all their peers. I believe you will make a fine Judicator at the council. At least accept this post until a new leader rises for the Dark Templar."

Bur'klok's blue eyes shone with curiosity. A leader? Him? He had never controlled anything but his own mind and soul, and the way he carried them into battle. This experience would really bring his existence to a new peak.

"I will… rise to the council then…" he said temptively.

The Zealot crowd cheered him on. Bur'klok was the youngest Judicator ever to rise to the council. Of course, he had been emissary, but that was nothing compared to the post he was about to occupy. That day, Bur'klok the emissary and proud Zealot, two hundred and seventeen years of age, became the new Judicator.


	23. Symptoms

**Chapter twenty-three: Symptoms  
**

Rodger awakened, with a great smile on his face as usual. Everything was perfect. The Ganthritor and its Battlecruiser escort were moving towards Char at a great pace. Char was only a few days away, now, Rodger knew. On the other hand, he was having less and less of his disturbing dreams featuring T'rgashi. Josart was his good friend again, even if he still did not appreciate Feodora's presence. Likewise, the bond between Feodora and himself was still growing. Bur'klok was the new Judicator, and he was actually a great and fair leader. The best part of it was that the Zealot, to whom Rodger had apologized countless times, held no grudge against him for falsely accusing him.

"Ah, what a wonderful life…" Rodger said out loud, but not loud enough to awaken his sleeping pet, Trikko, who was sleeping in a ball in a corner of the room.

Rod looked at his watch and noticed he got up earlier than usual. He walked towards his bathroom unhurriedly to take a shower. He stayed in there for about fifteen minutes, and then came out with a towel surrounding his waist. He began combing his hair, even though he knew it would be unruly before the end of the day.

Suddenly he stopped; He felt somewhat taller. Rodger came out of the bathroom to mesure himself. To his disbelief, his calculations proved to be true; the marine had grown three inches that night. Feeling a strange premonition, he ran back into the washroom and inspected his body thoroughly. After a few seconds of searching, he noticed that his fingertips had turned to a brownish color and the skin there was a bit crusty. Rod looked at his face very closely, smiled anxiously and saw that his incisors were sharper and longer, too.

"Uh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" he said, fear everywhere inside his charming dark eyes.

He knew very well what was happening: the assimilation of his body had begun. He was twenty-two, at the moment, as such had lived about one fourth of his life. It was only right the first symptoms of metamorphism were manifesting themselves.

"Trikko! Triko!!" he called loudly.

The Talos Hydralisk raised instantly, blades ready for battle.

"In here!" a voice called from the washroom.

Trikko was too large to enter the small room, but it was no need, for Rod could show him and tell what had happened easily.

"Oh no! Trikko thinks that's the first step of your assimilation!"

"As I thought…" mumbled the man. "I'm starting to transform…"

Trikko reached into the room with one of his long bladed arms and brought his master closer to him.

"Don't worry. Soon, we'll attack the Overmind. His death may be the end of all this."

The words were little comfort to Rodger. What if the Overmind's destruction did nothing to stop the transformation? What if the evolution process was accelerated greatly? What if the next Zerg symptom would come to his head? With those questions and many more in his head, Rod entered the halls of the Ganthritor, accompanied by Trikko. Something else disturbed him: How would his friends, but more specifically Feodora, react to this unfortunate chain of events?

The marine and his Hydralisk reached the ship's cafeteria for breakfast. Trying to forget about his troublesome awakening, Rodger found a table where Zeratul, Bur'klok, Fenix and Feodora were waiting for him. They seemed to be happy to announce him something. They even prepared him a plate of his favourite morning food: bacon and pancakes. Rodger sat down, faked a smile and mumbled good morning.

Fenix, having been the closest of Rodger's friends in that group, noticed something was wrong, but remained silent. He would ask him when they would be alone. Zeratul looked into the deep green eyes and said:

"Good morning, Rodger. We have some good news for you."

"What news?" Rodger asked with bits of pancakes in his mouth while surrounding Feodora's shoulder with his arm.

"We'll be arriving to Zerus soon. We can already see the planet with our advanced hyper-sensors. The end of the Zerg may be near."

Bur'klok was shaking with adrenaline. Everybody at the table knew that the young Judicator would still actively participate in the oncoming conflict. He was indeed a fierce warrior, nearly as stalwart as Fenix when he was a Zealot.

"I can hardly wait to crush those maggots! The Overmind will fall before our calculated blows!"

Everyone cheered on the new Protoss leader, even the pacific Feodora. Rodger was silent, though, and this troubled Fenix some more. The great arachnid knew that if he would just wait until they would be alone, it might take some time, considering Rodger spent most of his time with Feodora.

"Rodger…" said Fenix, standing proudly on his four mechanical legs, "may I speak with you for one moment, alone?"

Rodger agreed, kissed his girlfriend on the cheek, saying "I'll be right back." and followed his trusted Protoss friend. What was on the Dragoon's mind, Rod had no idea. He was a bit worried that his old comrade may have noticed his sorrow, because if he did, he would be forced to tell him of his transformation earlier than wanted.

After a few minutes of walking around, Fenix turned to see the man. Rodger looked around nervously, becoming aware of how far Fenix had taken him and knowing that the secrecy of this meeting seemed to be absolute. Finally, after a few moments of silence, Fenix asked:

"Rodger… is there something troubling you?"

Rod suspected his friend was aware of his misery, and he knew that Fenix was already familiar with his transformation, so he decided not to hide the truth from his best Protoss friend.

"Yeah, Fenix… getting up this morning, I saw…uh… I saw my first symptoms of assimilation… I'm turning into a Zerg."

The Dragoon stood silently. He knew not how to respond to such terrible news. Eventually, he spoke:

"Ahhh… I am very sorry Rodger… Fear not."

Rodger looked down desolately. Fear not? His very life as he knew it was in danger to fall apart. His friends would distance themselves from him. He may start thinking like a Zerg, obeying blindly to the commands of the wretched Overmind. And what of Trikko? Would he slip from his command and go on a killing rampage? Or would he still control him as a Zerg, and order him to murder all? He knew that his future was cloudy and grim, so, with tears in his eyes and a weak smile on his lips, he said:

"Remember that favour I asked you?" Fenix had to think about it for a long time, for many, many weeks had passed since the meeting between the two. Suddenly, the words rang into Fenix's mind…

"Please kill me…kill me… kill me…"

Fenix roared.

"Never! We can't be too sure how far this assimilation will go! I will be dead before I kill you, my friend!"

The green eyes looked at the Dragoon blankly. Rodger knew Fenix was right. The friendship between Fenix and himself was too strong to be broken now.

"Yeah… you're right Fenix… It's too soon to give up on life now."

Fenix nodded his upper body and added:

"We are not sure if destroying the Overmind will halt the assimilation process, but it's a risk we should be prepared to take. Don't worry until you know you aren't yourself anymore. Then…"

Fenix took a break to sigh.

"…We'll see what we'll do about you… but I shall not let it happen!"

The Dragoon returned to the cafeteria quite quickly. The Kel-Morian combine soldier called after him.

"Wait, Fenix!"

The Dragoon turned around to face his friend. With a look of sorrow in his eye, Rod told Fenix:

"Please don't tell the others."

Fenix, as a reply, answered with a tone of comfort in his usually powerful and rough voice.

"You can count on me."

Happy to have a friend like Fenix, Rodger followed. He knew Fenix would not betray him. Rodger caught up to him in no time, but he did not notice that someone had followed them. This person was not following them anymore, for this person stayed behind the wall.

This person was crying.

The rest of the day went by fairly fast. Rodger mostly wasted his time walking around in the hallways with some of his friends. Sometimes, he would accompany Kurt, Trikko, or sometimes Josart to the command deck to see if Char would soon be in sight. It was a good day for him; he enjoyed every moment of it except for the troublesome morning. However, Fenix's promise compensated for the event. A bit later, Rodger looked at his watch. It was seven in the evening. Rod was astounded by how quickly the day had gone by.

As he headed towards his room alone to find Trikko, he was confused. Where had Feodora been all day? He did not see her ever since the breakfeast. He thought it quite awkward, yet he understood. After all, he spent his entire day with his friends, and she did not get along too well with some of them, especially his green-haired comrade. Rodger Hertubiz opened the door to his room slowly. It was very dark inside. There were very few stars around the Ganthritor to generate light, for in space, it was the closest thing to a sun. Rodger smiled at that fact; he would have no problem falling asleep tonight. Often, the ship would drive near a large bright planet and the luminosity would wake up the poor marine.

Rod entered the room quietly, looking around. For some reason, he felt like someone was watching him. He noticed his Hydralisk sleeping peacefully in a ball in a corner of the room as usual.

"I wonder what Trikko did all day when he wasn't with me…" the young man pondered.

He could not think of that topic any longer; a lamp fell on the ground. As quick as lightning, the marine went for his weapon and shouted:

"Show yourself!"

Trikko awakened at the sound of the scream and opened his ruff, ready to fire his deadly spines. A female voice called from the shadows:

"Don't shoot! Please!"

"Show yourself!" Rodger insisted.

From the darkness appeared a young woman with flowing blonde hair and emerald eyes. A puzzled Rodger asked:

"Feodora? What are you doing here?" he took a break to think a bit, then continued: "I locked the door… why did you break in my room?"

Feodora was silent. A bit angry and confused at his girlfriend's behaviour, Rodger called to Trikko:

"Turn on the lights, please."

The request was executed quickly. It was then Rodger noticed that the medic's eyes were all red and puffy. It was also then Rod's sudden surprise and anger disappeared. He almost instantly dropped his rifle and walked towards his girlfriend as quietly as he could. He brought his hands to her face and caressed her cheeks gently. He tried to make his deep voice as sweet as possible, and caringly asked:

"Feodora? What's wrong?"

Getting no response from her, the man tried another typical approach.

"Do you want to talk about it? Cause if you don't it's fine with me."

Feodora let out a soft sob, backed up a few steps and looked down. Rodger scrubbed his toes against the floor. What could be wrong? Just earlier today, she seemed so happy. Why was Feodora suddenly so hurt, so sad, so depressed?

"Will you tawk to me? Tawk to your widdle Woddy-boy?" He said in a cartoonish voice.

Often he had done that when Feodora was not having a good day, he spoke in his little stupid voice and it would always make her laugh. However this night, her head simply tilted up, as her lips were trembling. It was only then Rodger, and Trikko, in his corner, knew the gravity of the situation. With more seriousness than ever, Rod asked:

"Feodora? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. I want to help you. That's what I'm there for. Do you remember what you told me in the bar the night we met? If you keep it inside all to yourself, you won't be able to feel any better."

The blurry emerald eyes looked into Rodger's, and weakly, Feodora mumbled:

"I heard."

Concerned and confused at once, the pilot asked:

"Heard what?"

He saw Feodora walk closer towards him and she said:

"Your evolution… You… You are Zerg."

Rod froze at those words. "You are Zerg." Throughout his entire life, nothing seemed more painful, more grating to Rodger than those three simple words. He could understand why Feodora was upset, but he was quite sure she was going too far, so calmly, he took her by the shoulders and said gently:

"I know… I'm so sorry… I didn't mean it to be this way, but I'm in this situation, and until we reach Char, there is nothing I can do to stop it…"

The healer brushed a streak of hair away from her face, and said with a little more confidence:

"How long have you known?"

"Two weeks after I met the Protoss."He answered.

"Two weeks after you met the Protoss??" gulped Feodora. "You knew all along?? But… why didn't you tell me?"

Rod stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was very distressed and knew there was nothing he could do. He stood there silent, searching his mind for something to say. His girlfriend beat him to it, and she said:

"Why? Why did you keep it to yourself? Are you selfish? Afraid I wouldn't understand??"

The marine's head tilted upwards and he answered, somewhat aggressively:

"Yes. That's exactly it! I was afraid you might think of me otherwise if you knew I was being assimilated into the Zerg swarm… I was worried you may turn away from me because of that. But even then, I knew you were the girl I was meant to be with… and losing you was unthinkable. I need you…you are everything to me, Feodora… and if I wouldn't be fighting for own personal freedom…I wouldn't be fighting at all. I will destroy the Overmind, even if that means I have to go with it."

The medic held her lover's hands on her shoulders. She was very emotional at that moment and smiled weakly.

"You did it again, Rodger… I was mad at you again, but here you are, completely forgiven… I wish you would have told me earlier, sparing me from these terrible moments… but the truth is, you're not a Zerg yet… you're still here, here with us, and here with me. I was just… so afraid to lose you, Rodger. I love you so much."

She pressed her head against Rod's chest gently, and he stroked her flowing hair, thinking of these moments. He closed his eyes and wanted it to last forever. He knew it wouldn't though, for war was at hand. All he could do was enjoy the moment. He smiled as he realized Feodora was right: he was still here, completely in control of his mind and body. His life was still relatively flawless, and he knew that. Trikko, hidden in a corner, moved by the love scene, knew that too.


	24. The slumber of Adun

Chapter twenty-four: The slumber of Adun

Three days later, a meeting was held. Zeratul, Bur'klok, Rodger, and Arcturus were present. They had to discuss about a very interesting matter: Char was in sight. The Battlecruiser escort had already decimated the few patrols that went around the fiery planet. It took less than two hours to do so. Now, the battle plan for the attack on Char was being prepared.

"Reinforcements from Shakuras will arrive tommorow at noon. Shakuras already knows."

"Via Hyperspace?" asked Rodger.

"Yes," answered the new Judicator, "a few warships like this one, as well as a few Carriers. The bulk of our fleet must stay behind to protect Shakuras, for it falls; all is lost for the First-Born."

Arcturus took a sip of his coffee, looked at Bur'klok, and said:

"Don't be afraid, young Protoss, our little fleet might give these Zerg more than a few headaches."

Everyone around the table laughed and agreed; the Battlecruisers had _already _given the Zerg many headaches.

"What to do first?" asked Rodger.

Zeratul, who had been silent throughout the entire meeting, stood up and shouted:

"Missar'ka Adun!"

At those words, Bur'klok laughed. Arcturus and Rodger looked at each other in miscomprehension, as Zeratul and Bur'klok chuckled softly.

"Is there something we should know?" questioned the Emperor.

"Ah, yes… I am sorry; I have never used that expression in your language before. I said "Missar'ka Adun", which, in English, means 'The slumber of Adun.'"

Rodger looked puzzled. He simply said:

"The slumber of Adun? What does that have to do with the first phase of our attack?"

Bur'klok laughed some more. Zeratul allowed himself to continue his explanation:

"The slumber of Adun is twenty four hours. "

Rodger scratched his head.

"A day?"

"Yes," continued the Prelate. "A full day of sleep."

The two humans were in disbelief. A full day of sleep! In a moment like this! How could the Protoss imagine doing such a thing at this moment? Zeratul caught their thoughts and explained:

"The sleep of Adun is a full day of sleep. We Protoss believe that we must get as much sleep as possible before we enter a violent conflict, and we believe the attack against the Overmind will be the most violent assault of all."

Zeratul looked sad and continued:

"I hate to say this, but I believe it may not be the end of the Overmind."

Rodger crushed his fists together and shouted:

"There is still a chance to defeat T'rgashi!! We must take that chance!"

Zeratul agreed, and so did Bur'klok.

"Back to the Missar'ka Adun, usually our slumber is not that long," pursued Zeratul. "But since this attack will be quite formidable, we figured the more sleep we could get before we strike, the better."

Bur'klok nodded his head and said:

"Yes, and it is tradition. Breaking it would be sacrilege."

Rodger sighed, but agreed. The stubborn First-Born would not give up their traditions, and he saw no inconvenience to the slumber of Adun. Of course, a few Zealots would stay awake to make sure the enemy would not attack while everyone was sleeping. These Zealots were also command Zealots, or young warriors who operated radio equipment. These Zealots had no true significance in combat.

The council was dismissed, and everyone was called to return to his room to sleep. An announcement was heard through the intercom, and everyone did as they were told. On the way back to his room, Rodger encountered Fenix, the Dragoon.

"Hi ya, Fenix… I've been wondering… do Dragoons sleep?"

Fenix chuckled loudly, and then answered:

"No, my good friend. I do not sleep during Missar'ka Adun, nor does any other Dragoon. We usually stay awake and watch for enemies while the Zealots sleep and gather their strength. It is upon their shoulders that most attacks rely on."

The marine thought about what his friend had said, and then sustained:

"You know, I don't think this entire "slumber" idea is so good for me. I think I'll stay up."

The great spider approached Rod, somewhat aggressively.

"Nonsense! Please go to sleep, Rodger! When you are on the fields of battle, you will be begging for additional naptime! Now go!"

Not willing to disobey his friend, Rodger agreed. The friends went their own ways again, and when Rod reached his room, Trikko was waiting for him.

"Go to sleep, Tri. It's naptime."

The great Hydralisk shook his head left and right. He seemed somewhat angry, maybe shocked. Rodger was not too sure himself until the slimy voice said:

"Trikko not tired. Trikko stays awake."

The man marched closer to his pet, caressed his long ruff and whispered:

"I know, I know… I think it's a stupid tradition too. But Fenix, Bur'klok and Zeratul, as well as most of the Protoss, seem to take it quite seriously. I heard a few Zealots discussing in the hallways, saying that if one broke this tradition, the tides of the battle would turn to Adun's enemies. It didn't make much sense to me… but maybe we should get some rest."

"Alright." Said the creature.

It retreated to its corner and got into a ball. He was still for a few minutes, and then the olive-eyed man heard deep breathing and slobbering. Trikko was definitely asleep. With no further delay, Rodger entered his bed and stared at the ceiling. Almost hypnotized by a large zircon implanted into the ceiling, the pilot quickly fell asleep.

Down on Zerus, the Overmind was readying itself for what would be the most violent conflict of all galactic history. His great yellow eye scanned the horizons nervously. He knew that just orbiting around his home world was a great fleet, and he had a premonition more would come. The First-Born and humanity worked together formidably, and T'rgashi understood that they would not be destroyed easily. As it grew more and more nervous, the Overmind noticed a large meteorite coming towards him at a blinding speed.

Hope renewed within T'rgashi.

"Daggoth!" he exclaimed as the Zerg Cerebrate crash-landed a few meters away from him.

"Your highness, I have discovered a few life forms that will aid us greatly in the upcoming attack." Said Daggoth.

A few Overlords that were with him opened their ventral sacs to reveal brand new strains of Zerg. The Overmind grew pleased, for they looked incredibly powerful. The first was about nine feet tall and was quite large. It had no eyes, but had a menacing mouth full of jagged curved teeth. Its skin was a greyish color, with several bizarre symbols on each of its four arms and on its back. Two of its arms ended with a long blade, much like a Hydralisk, and the two others ended with a hole, as such somewhat resembled gun barrels. Within these holes secreted a vile acid that the creature could fire at will. It stood proudly on eight legs, while regarding T'rgashi with its four arms crossed.

"This is a Zerg Arach." Added Daggoth.

The Overlord's pouch released another strange creature. This one was a large green worm, with a hundred eyes all over its body. It did not look very powerful, and T'rgashi seemed much less impressed with this one. His Cerebrate understood that, but demonstrated its power.

Daggoth called to one of the Arachs and ordered it to destroy the new strain. With much amusement, the Arach went and sliced the green worm open with his two awesome blades. T'rgashi looked with much admiration at the power of the Arach, but was surprised to see the green worm explode in four pieces. Each piece was smaller then the original worm. Daggoth then ordered the smaller worms to strike at an innocent Overlord, just to demonstrate their virtue. Every worm leapt high from the ground and landed on the Overlord's carapace.

It started to panic, having four little insects on its back. The green beings slammed themselves against the lumbering beast. Each of them went right through it, came out from somewhere else and entered the Overlord again. Having such large wounds at many places, after only a few seconds, the Overlord succumbed. It fell on the ground loudly, more dead then the planet Zerus itself. T'rgashi laughed loudly.

"Impressive!" he said.

Daggoth gave a brief explanation on the worm's capabilities.

"This is the Zerg Splitter. As its name indicates, it splits into smaller pieces should it be destroyed. Although relatively slow at first, when they break into four, they develop an amazing leaping ability, and use their sharp skulls to cut through enemies. And, last but not least, my favourite…"

As Daggoth increased the suspense, an enormous beast left another Overlord's pouch. It was much larger then a human elephant, had four legs and two arms that were strictly composed of two enormous blades, referred to as "Kaiser Blades". It had a reinforced shell on its body, as such was extremely resistant to attacks, and looked upon its master with his two beady black eyes. It was also an orangish-brown color, like most Zerg.

"…The Ultralisk." Said Daggoth.

Impatient, the Overmind commanded:

"Show me its power!"

Daggoth agreed, edgy himself to view his greatest minions in battle once again. Under the order of the Cerebrate, the Ultralisk ran into a group of five unsuspecting Hydralisks. It crushed one simply by stepping on it, smashed one against a mountain with its small but mighty head and cut a Hydralisk in half by scratching it with its Kaiser Blades. T'rgashi was in disbelief. Not even the mighty Psionic Blades of the Protoss had cut one of his Hydralisks in half before. And now, one of his minions had done it with relatively little effort. Eager to watch what the Ultralisk would do to the other two creatures, T'rgashi said nothing. By then the Hydralisks had realised they were in trouble, and began firing their needle spines at the large beast. It hardly seemed to affect it. The spines did not even penetrate the Ultralisk's shell. The Hydralisks, agile, managed to avoid the Kaiser Blades as it came for them. However, the larger creature managed to surround one in its arms, and shred it into pieces.

The last Hydralisk finally had the idea to retreat, but the large abomination was much faster, even if it was enormous. It got in front of the retreating Zerg and let itself fall on it. The immense weight of the Ultralisk crushed the Hydralisk, and its insides splattered all over the hot floor of the plain. Calmly, the new strain rose, completely unscathed by the attack. T'rgashi laughed loudly. He knew his new army would be much more dangerous now that these three new terrors walked within its ranks. T'rgashi also had a little surprise for the human fleet, but he would keep it for later. Right now, only one thing mattered: his most evil and antagonistic laughter.

Rodger awakened in sweat. The laughter had gotten to him, and he had a nightmare about T'rgashi again. He saw strange Zerg creatures in that dream; they all were so powerful, so mighty. He prayed they did not exist, but if all his other dreams were true, then he would die. Feodora would also die. He did not believe he would die on the fields of Char, but he grew more and more nervous. He had seen the planet in his dreams. It was dreadful; using that world, as a battlefield, was unthinkable. He hoped that the crystals would destroy T'rgashi without too much difficulty.

Being too troubled to continue the slumber of Adun, Rodger got out of bed, dressed up and left the room. Trikko, in his corner, was still sleeping.

He got to the Ganthritor's cafeteria. It was isolated, like he expected. He helped himself to one of the coffee machines and sat at a table, sipping it slowly. As he took another gulp of it, he thought he heard footsteps from down the hall. He decided it was probably his imagination, or someone snoring, for at this time, nearly everyone was following the Missar'ka Adun. Even the all the human troops were sleeping soundly and transmission proved that the people aboard the Battlecruisers were doing the same thing. At that point, Rod's greatest fear was that the Zerg would strike when they weren't expecting it.

So many worries clouded Rodger's mind. He could hardly enjoy his coffee. He was not afraid of dying on Char; he thought it would be an honourable death. What he feared was that, inevitably, some of his loved ones would die. He thought about life without them. Josart… what would life be without him? The joker who always made him laugh. The friend who warned him about Aldaris' treachery. One of his oldest friends.

And what of Kurt? He was one of his oldest friends too, and was solemn and comforting. Even if he wasn't serious all the time, he was always there to help Rodger.

Rod was particularly afraid of Fenix's death. He was a Dragoon. Once Dragoons die, they never live again. Fenix too had always been there for him, and often had to protect him at first from the suspicious Protoss. Of all his friends, Fenix was probably the one who understood his feelings best. The marine also thought of Bur'klok, Trikko, his loyal pet, some Zealots he had met and tied bonds with, but most especially Feodora.

He knew now, without a doubt, that he loved her. He could die in order to save her life. He knew that life without Feodora would mean life in black and white, with no colours or purpose. He would hate every morning, every morning when he would have to get up and know that those sparkles in the emerald eyes were gone forever. Rodger had a flashback of his dream as he just met Feodora. He saw her again, on Char, with the three holes going through her body, pierced by the tendrils of the murderous sunken colony.

"Oh God no…" Rodger begged.

The pilot did not have time to think anymore, for he heard footsteps again. This time, he knew they were real. He did not really care, he just crossed his arms and thought of something else. His thoughts were disturbed when a pair of smooth, thin arms surrounded his neck. He looked up; already knowing whom it was, to face Feodora.

"Hi, angel. Why aren't you sleeping?"

The medic then sat next to Rodger, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I had a bad dream."

Rodger smiled nervously, and then asked:

"Really, so did I. What was yours about?"

Feodora looked at Rod with much grief and said:

"I dreamt you were shot down while piloting your wraith. It was awful! Just before you went down, I saw your face… it was all bloody and had needle spines in it… you screamed… and then crashed. I woke up right after that."

Rodger nodded his head sadly and thought about it for a while. Was this how he was going to die? Were Catrine and he really meant to go down together? Rodger wished he could know.

"What about your dream?" asked Feodora.

"Well, I dreamt the Zerg had new breeds and they were very powerful… I thought I saw you too, Feodora, impaled through the stomach by a sunken colony, dying in my arms… I don't want that to happen… Life would suck without you."

The healing woman laughed out loud at the simplicity of Rodger's overview of the dream, "life would suck without you". She thought it really cute, though, and held her man against her tightly.

"Life would suck without you too, Rod."

The next remark Feodora made came in as a surprise for Rodger. She held his hands, stood up lifting him up with her, looked deeply into his charming dark green eyes and whispered:

"Rodger… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I've never felt as happy as when I am with you. I don't care if you turn into a Hydralisk in ten years! I want to be with you, always! No matter what occurs, I'll be by your side! Rod… I…"

Rodger stopped her in her tracks with a swift kiss. While the girl was opening her charming eyes, Rod finished it for her:

"I love you too. I don't want to go on if you're not with me. This is the last obstacle between eternal happiness and us. Let's clear it together."

Feodora, shaken by emotion, kissed him. Afterwards, the two slow-danced in the middle of the cafeteria for over half an hour, even if there was no music to listen to. They did not need music, for the world's greatest instrument, the heart, was playing a melody they could both hear. Lost in the rhythm of love, the couple could not care less that they were both in peril of death. Only one thing mattered to them: they were still together, and very alive.

They went to Feodora's room afterwards. The young woman giggled softly because she heard several Zealots snoring loudly. She and Rodger had to be very quiet, for the Zealots' reflexes were extremely sharp. As silently as she could, Feodora opened the door to her room and entered. The amorous pilot followed. He sat on Feodora's bed, watching her close the door without a noise. Afterwards, she got close to him, leaned on his knees and kissed him again. Rodger let himself drop and the two were now on each other. Eventually the embrace ended, Feodora sat down and Rodger smirked and blushed, impressed by the energy she had placed within that kiss.

"Wow, Feo…" Rodger praised. "I don't think you've ever kissed me like that before."

The golden-haired woman smiled and agreed, but with a certain sorrow in her voice, explained:

"Tommorow, we attack Char. And…I hate to say it but we may not even live tomorrow at this hour."

"True…" sadly nodded Rodger.

"That's why I want to make this night, this "slumber of Adun" extra special for you. I hope you enjoyed it."

The messy-haired man chuckled softly.

"Hah, I most certainly did, Fee-Fee. Thanks for that. But you forgot yourself, in there. This night has to be special for you, too. "

Rodger then stood up in front of Feodora, much friendliness and love in his eyes. He got on his knees and placed his hands on his girlfriend's, looked at her and asked:

"What would make you really happy right now?"

Feodora laughed softly and looked at Rodger with a look he had never seen before in her emerald globes. She stood up too, and held the pilot's cheeks with her hands, as he held her waist. They both smiled at each other for a few minutes, but then Feodora winked.

"I want to go somewhere with you, right now… somewhere… special." She said with a strange tone in her voice.

Rodger was not sure how to define this tone; he decided it was agitated and desiring.

"I'm… not sure I understand."

Feodora undid her hair, which was in a long ponytail that night, and whispered something in Rodger's ear. He froze at her proposal. Was she serious? He was in disbelief, but he could not deny that he himself sometimes wanted this to come up. She had proposed to him to allow herself to give herself to him, body and soul, to the fullest. Of course, Rodger knew it was more "body" in this case, but he thought about it with excitement. He stoked her long hair and caressed her face sweetly. Feodora walked away a few steps to her room's wall. Leaning against the wall, Feodora got herself into a sexy posture, both her hands on her thighs. Rodger sat down on the bed again. He felt something jump in his chest, his own heart. He was barely breathing. The excited marine was not sure if he would faint, such was his stimulation. He held on to the bed's blankets tightly, as his heart kept on pounding louder and louder.

Feodora, running her hands on her stomach and legs, winked at Rodger. This time, he thought he would go insane. She was clearly playing with his patience. Her soft and melodious voice finally called softly:

"I'm ready, Rod… let's do it."

Rodger then delightfully watched Feodora take a step forward. Rodger held his breath as he witnessed his love hold the bottom of her shirt. Rod's heartbeat had nearly doubled in speed, as the small, delicate hands holding the blouse went up higher and higher… Rodger could see Feodora's angelic stomach and was greatly anticipating the next move.

His wish was granted, as Feodora was now standing in front of him in a red bra. He kept staring, hypnotized by the graceful figure before him. The medic was aware that her charm was a definite success upon Rodger, and started to run her hands on her large, well-defined chest. Rodger gulped; this was insane to him, but he could stay in that room forever. The young woman kept on touching herself, but Rodger eventually could not take it anymore. He stood, and tiptoed to her position. Showing her beautiful white smile, the girl allowed Rod to gently push her against the wall, where he touched her stomach while kissing her neck. She took his hands, a look of pleasure in her emerald eyes and placed them on her waist.

"Take them off." She whispered, with certain acceleration in her breath.

Rodger certainly did not hesitate, and while he pulled down her blue jeans, she ran her hands on his strong chest, lust starting to nibble her inside. Rod was now motivated by his primitive senses more than ever: he had his girlfriend in his arms, wearing only her undergarments. Feodora, in one quick gesture, removed his shirt and felt his strong, muscled body. Using his powerful arms, the man surrounded Feodora's hips and lifted her up. He kissed her stomach several times as she exhaled soundly. The relatively exposed woman evaded the wall, and while holding Rodger's strong, unprotected back, went for the bed. She sat down, a naughty look in her eyes. Rodger sat down on the floor, kissed her knees, and went up to her thigh, eventually adding his tongue. Getting more excited by the second, Feodora asked for more by letting out little shouts.

"Make love to me, Rodger…" she pleaded.

He leapt on the bed, sat behind Feodora, and rubbed her stomach with his hands. Wishing for more pleasure, she took Rod's hand and placed it on her breast. The marine grabbed and stroked the perfectly round large shape, listening to Feodora's moans and feeling his own excitement grow. The blonde woman turned around to face him, laughing teasingly, and got upon him. Her entire body was so smooth, so soft. Rodger's hesitation began to disappear, as all boundaries faded away as Feodora rubbed herself up and down on her lover. Quickly, his hands went to play with her hips, and she started to giggle of amusement. The couple went on like that for a long time simply squeezed together, the man enjoying the Feodora's softness and physical perfection, while she was getting the thrusting she was wishing for. A few moments later, Feodora, still on top of Rodger, raised her upper body with a little smile.

"This…ohhh…you're gonna… love this…" she said, hardly able to talk to her love.

Her hands behind her back, and she seemed busy undoing something. Rodger begged it was what he thought it was, and even he, a strong character, started to shout and yell loudly, no longer caring about the Zealots practicing Missar'ka Adun. It turned out for him it was what he was wished, as the upper garment dropped on his stomach. He now looked at his girlfriend, with nothing protecting her firm, large breasts. As she smiled to descend upon Rodger again, she felt that his erection was taking an enormous amount of room in his pants, so she did him a favour by removing them. The two now were cuddled, with nothing but one article of clothing protecting them from the final pleasure.

Rod, becoming more aggressive, took over the top position by rolling to the side. The couple fell off the bed because of this gesture, but the two were too intimate to take a break. Rodger rubbed Feodora's entire body, forgetting his usually gentle behaviour. Nothing slowed him down, for the young woman, in sweat and in definite pleasure, begged for more. Slowly, as he caressed her nipples, Rod went to take off her necklace, the one he had forged for her. Shaken by the bliss, Feodora almost screamed:

"No! Don't take it off!"

With a little smile and her eyes closed, almost teary, whispered:

"This, however," she said, holding the only thing that protected her now, "is free for you to remove."

The delighted marine did as he was told, pulling down Feodora's red underwear. She was now fully naked, and very vulnerable to an orgasm. She also wanted one real soon, so without warning pulled down Rodger's gray boxers. She yelped as she was entered, again and again. It felt enormous between her legs, and every thrust pleased her more than the previous. Demanding more, the medic's exposed body was trembling with excitement. Rod, unsure how he could add "more", decided to speed up the pace making his thrusts quicker and more vigorous. Feodora answered, by moaning and calling his name.

As the two naked bodies kept rolling around on each other, much vapour formed on the room's windows. Everywhere in the halls of the Ganthritor, it was pure silence. It was over. The couple was now sleeping quietly, exhausted, ignoring the new scent that floated in the room. The slumber of Adun had a new meaning for them. The tradition also had a new meaning for Obrut, the hockey clerk, who was rooming next to Feodora. Wide-awake, he looked at the ceiling, frozen stiff. In fact, all the Zealots in the same hallway as Feodora's room were stunned. Obrut closed his pink eyes and forgot about the entire happening, while others were awake for the remainder of the Missar'ka Adun.


	25. The battle of the fiery world

Chapter twenty-five: The battle of the fiery world

The next morning, Arcturus, Zeratul and Bur'klok were waiting for Rodger in the council room. He was definitely late, for the meeting was appointed at ten in the morning and it was nearly eleven.

"Where could he be?" asked the new Judicator, crossing his long arms on his chest.

A few minutes after Bur'klok had asked the question, Rodger entered the room in a hurry. He was a mess that morning, and it seemed to Bur'klok and Zeratul the slumber of Adun could have been longer for him.

"Morning, Hertubiz." Called an unimpressed Arcturus.

"How was your Missar'ka Adun?" asked Zeratul.

As a response, Rod simply rubbed his neck with his hand and said nervously:

"Emmmmmmm…. Yeah, it was pretty good. I'd like to do it again… I mean! I'd like to have another… I mean! I… It was good."

Mocking his stuttering, the two Protoss and the Emperor invited him to take a seat.

"Shall we establish our plan, then?" asked impatiently Mengsk, eager to destroy the Zerg menace forever.

For the next few hours, the Ganthritor sent little drones known as Observers to spy on the enemy on Char. These Observers were invisible to the eye, and resembled an eye themselves. When they returned, the results were rather discouraging. The Zerg homeworld was well guarded. The spies detected approximately one billion sunken colonies everywhere on Zerus' surface. With such a defensive matrix, mounting an attack would prove difficult. It was decided that the master cerebrate, Daggoth, had to be destroyed at all costs in order to disable the colonies. This was possible because sunken colonies, like all the Zerg substance, were entirely biological and were tied to the Zerg control system. If Daggoth were killed, these colonies would no longer be functional, thus giving the invaders the chance to reach the Overmind's plateau with less competition.

The first phase of the attack was set: the Battlecruisers would move in closer to Zerus and fire their awesome Yamato guns. Each Battlecruiser had one, but it took very long to reload it. Yamato guns created a fast-moving red laser sphere that would cause a small compressed nuclear explosion upon whatever it was shot to. Although the blast had very little splash radius, it inflicted devastating damage to anything. So, with these weapons, the Battlecruisers would nullify a small sector of sunken colonies and allow the Protoss and humans to land.

Then, four tasks had to be accomplished in order to prevail. First, Space Construction Vehicles, otherwise known as "SCVs" would construct a small outpost as a rally point for the armies and the only safe place to make a landing. The largest percentage of the mixed army would have to defend this outpost from the Zerg, who would most likely come in hard and fast. Even so, the Protoss were confident they could repel their attacks.

While this conflict was raging, a large strike group would move to Daggoth's location and fight his personal defence, undoubtedly enormous in size. The attackers had to destroy the Cerebrate in order to allow the other two phases to take place, for approaching the Overmind with the sunken colonies working was foolhardy.

When Daggoth would be dead, two groups would be formed at the outpost. One would be in charge of the Uraj, and the other, the Khalis. The two groups would move separately, one approaching T'rgashi's plateau from the east while the other would come from the west, creating a certain "sandwich" attack. It was believed that when the crystals were both placed at the base of the Overmind, they would work together and undo the foul brain. This would end the Zerg's reign of terror.

Of course, this plan was complicated and very risky, but just thinking that the Zerg may be done for, it was very worth it. Without the intergalactic menace wandering around in the universe, life would be much more peaceful. The Battlecruisers were warned of the procedure. Additionally, the Protoss warships came by hyperspace, as expected. These would have no role in the Yamato strike, but would be very good support.

Arcturus, Zeratul and Bur'klok went to the ship's docking bay. It was time to give a briefing to the troops.

"Warriors of Adun! Hear me!" called Bur'klok to the large assembly of humans and Protoss gathered at the docking bay. "Below us lies the fiery planet, Zerus! Home of the mighty Overmind, our lifelong enemy! These Zerg chased us from our home world a long time ago, before even I was born. If we defeat T'rgashi today, the entire assembly of the Broods will be paralyzed and no longer a threat! We will be able to reclaim Aiur!!"

Every Protoss in the room roared with glee, but the humans, not understanding, remained silent.

"As for you, noble humans, these Zerg have corrupted your homes and destroyed so many things you worked so hard to build!"

The speech was filmed, and on the human worlds, everyone saw the young Judicator, even if the image was a bit blurry from poor quality. The other ships could see Bur'klok speak, too.

"Too many times we have watched helplessly someone we love being killed by a Zerg! This nightmare has lasted too long! Let us end it!"

This time, it was everyone in the room who cheered on the new Judicator. Zeratul then went on explaining what the council had decided, retracing each step of the attack, while everyone listened very carefully. In the end, all were in agreement. Some questions were asked, though.

"Who will fight?" asked a young marine.

Zeratul looked at him with much grief. He looked so young, no more than 16. The carroty-eyed Dark Templar, full of worry, answered:

"Everybody, young one. Everybody fights. The Dark Templar and I will take command of the Protoss fleet, while commander Jean Duchesne, the powerful French commander of the Battlecruiser armada, handles the authority over the human ships. Arcturus, being the Emperor, will also stay behind. However, even the prisoners of the Ganthritor will fight. We need all the warriors we can possibly use."

When Rodger, in the crowd with Feodora, heard this, he got worried. There was a very dangerous prisoner on board: Aldaris. The traitorous Judicator had already jeopardized this operation by killing the wise and noble Matriarch of the Dark Templar. Rodger was not sure what Aldaris would try on the fields of Zerus, but he did not trust him at all.

Before more doubts could reach his mind, Arcturus spoke.

"Good luck, brave soldiers. Today, you hold the universe's future in your hands. If we do not stop these Zerg, no one will. I know, many of you are frightened, and I don't blame you. But keep this in mind: afterwards, never will the name of Zerg be spoken and cause terror. Everything rides on your backs. You are the last line of hope that existence has. If we fail, everything and everyone will be assimilated in the Zerg swarm. We will not let that happen, I won't! Go down on Char and show those freaks who's in charge! Slaughter them all in the name of Raszagal!"

Everyone applauded the Emperor and the doors to the shuttles and dropships opened. The attack was commencing. Rodger entered a dropship, with many of his friends by his side. He nervously noticed that Aldaris was being loaded on a shuttle, but then Feodora got in his line of vision and he quickly smiled. Kurt, Trikko, Josart and Fenix were also onboard.

Looking out the dropship's window, Rodger looked at the Ganthritor, the ship where the most exciting chronicles of his life had taken place. He had lived love, betrayal, friendship, and adventure on it. He started to cry quietly; he had learned to call the great warship home. It was the second time he left what he considered his domicile. Trikko got near him and pressed his large head against Rodger's.

"Trikko's going home."

Rodger looked at his pet, surprised.

"Char is the home of all Zerg. Trikko is no exception."

Behind them, Josart, Kurt and some other marines were making fun of Trikko's use of the third person. Rodger noticed it and glowered, but kept listening to the Hydralisk.

"Much death will come to us."

Rod knew it was true, and he hated to admit it. He took a good look at the people in the dropship. He knew that, on the flight back, the dropship would be only half as full. Worse still, there might be no flight back. The dangerous followers of T'rgashi had a very good chance of crushing the invaders. As he looked around, Feodora caught his look. She walked towards the pair and said:

"Rodger… that was pretty crazy last night…" she said, a bit nervous. "But I'd hate it if that were how it ends. We have to survive. We have our entire lives ahead of us."

Rodger nodded. He knew she was right, and he certainly wanted to live some more, especially now that his existence was so much more fulfilling. No more dialogue was spoken in the dropship. Every single one of the numerous transport ships had entered the stationary thrusters mode. Soon, a large energy build-up was heard everywhere around the dropships. It was the Battlecruisers, charging up their Yamato cannons. A huge zap was heard as over a dozen red spheres of death went right for Zerus' surface.

"GO!!" called Zeratul in every ship's intercom.

The transports moved towards the planet of fire. Fenix, looking around, prayed:

"May Adun be with us…"

The globes were definitely seen by T'rgashi, and when he saw them, he knew that it had begun. The invaders had made the first move even earlier than the Overmind had anticipated. He witnessed with much awe how the Yamato projectiles destroyed several of his sunken colonies. And now, transportation ships were making their way towards Zerus. The conflict was now inevitable. Although T'rgashi was worried, he knew that he had the home advantage. The Overmind was much more familiar with Char than even the unruly Trikko was.

Confident that he would destroy the attackers, T'rgashi was suddenly troubled: he felt a presence. It was a very familiar one.

"Rodger Hertubiz…" the abomination laughed to itself. "So he was that eager to die... Daggoth!" he cried.

Miles away, Daggoth heard the Overmind's psychic call.

"Yes, master?" he replied.

"Show no mercy for Rodger Hertubiz. Although I had planned for him great projects, he's gone too far. I did not expect him to survive everything we've thrown at him. It is time to put an end to it. Kill him."

Daggoth agreed, almost happily. Never had the Cerebrate missed the occasion to command his forces to slaughter an enemy of the swarm.

"Unbelievable…" said a stunned Feodora.

Everyone in the transports was just as surprised as she was. They looked upon the fiery world with much fascination. Everything in the scenery reflected death. The ground was full of craters where meteorites had hit. Not one drop of water seemed to exist on this world, and great rivers of lava flowed. There were even some holes in the ground that went very deep to reveal the magma that burned near the core of Char. Forests of broken and shattered rocks were found everywhere. Carcasses of dead animals lay on top of piles of bones and rotting skulls.

When the ships landed, the invaders were very relieved to see that nothing was waiting for them, except for the piles of gore, where once were sunken colonies.

"Quick! Rally the SCVs! Zealots, on the front line! Deploy Siege Tanks!" cheerfully cried the leaders of the operation.

Their orders were executed, and the Space Construction Vehicles started to build the outpost. First, a communications tower was established to be able to keep in touch with the Ganthritor, and at the same time, high walls were constructed to give certain cover. The jagged cliffs that surrounded the plain where the ships had landed were more a threat than cover, thus another form of defence was needed. On the wall, many marines stood with powerful sub machineguns, ready to repel any opponents.

While the SCVs were building the stronger and larger structures, marines and Zealots alike were raising simple army tents. An hour later, the outpost was complete. Much work had been done, and now, it had significant defences and the mighty Siege Tanks were well protected from attacks from the air, guarded by advanced missile turrets, able to efficiently destroy any airborne invader.

Feodora, Rodger and Kurt were now in an army tent.

"I hate this place," growled Feodora. "It spells death in every way possible!"

Kurt and Rodger agreed completely, but now was not the time to complain about the environment. Bur'klok entered the tent quickly, also invited to the meeting.

"So, are the groups formed yet?"

"No, Judicator." Answered Kurt. "We're working on it. Which group would you rather be in, Bur'klok?"

The blue-eyed Protoss just stared outside, where great balls of fire flew in the sky.

"I will defend the outpost. I will be most useful in the lines of the main action. These Zerg will know the full fury of the Protoss defence!"

"As you wish." Continued Kurt. "I will be part of the attack against Daggoth. Such an operation sounds exactly like what I'm accustomed to. Besides, I believe that Da…"

The tall man was interrupted by a high-pitched male voice.

"Knock, knock!" said a happy Josart before entering the tent. "Secret meetings without me, eh? How dare you!"

Knowing Josart was mocking the Protoss, Bur'klok jokingly elbowed him in the gut while chuckling softly.

"Josart, you also heard the plan aboard the Ganthritor. What group will you join?"

The freckled-faced man thought about it for a while, scratching his chin like Zeratul would, and finally decided to attack Daggoth too. Kurt and Josart cheered, happy to know they would be together in an attack. Meanwhile, Bur'klok walked to the table where the map of the Overmind's plateau was displayed, and said:

"The Khalis group will be moving up this way, by the east. The Khalis group has already been formed, so worry not about it. But, that reminds me… what of the Uraj group? We need a considerable amount of warriors for both crystal bearing groups."

Listening to the Judicator's words, Rodger looked down at his hands. His fingertips were still brown and crusty, and it was then he realized what he was meant to do.

"I will be in the Uraj group. I shall carry the crystal."

Everyone in the room looked at the private who just said such a thing.

"Rodger, Rodger… Carrying the Uraj will make you a much more important target to the Zerg. Are you sure that is what you want?" asked Bur'klok.

"I have to. I've always wanted to face the Overmind once again."

Feodora moved in and hugged the pilot, afraid.

"Rodger… if that's the path you choose, I will be with you, even if that means certain death…"

"Give me a break…" Josart laughed as he left the tent.

Also chuckling softly, Feodora went on:

"I already promised you: I'll go to the end of the universe with you, Rodger Hertubiz."

"And promises are not meant to be broken." Rod finished with a smile.

"Let's not go there…" interrupted Bur'klok. "It's already bad enough that you two have kept me up nearly all night…"

At this statement, Kurt got curious and started to ask several thousands of questions in a very short amount of time.

"Whatever…" giggled the medic. " Let's finish establishing this plan."

"Right!" agreed Bur'klok.

There was little to add afterwards, except the fact that the crystal groups would stay to defend the outpost until Daggoth was dead, because venturing out of the base towards the Overmind while the sunken colonies were not stunned yet was suicide. The meeting was dismissed, and just outside the tent, Rodger saw Fenix and Trikko, who had been listening.

"Carrying the Uraj will not be an easy task." Pointed out Fenix. "But I will go with you. My friend, we've fought battles on Moria and on Braxis, worlds quite contradictory. The attacks we've inflicted upon the Zerg swarms were either to defend ourselves, or to complete secondary objectives. Now, it is where it truly matters. The Overmind could be dead soon. We can do it; I know we can. The united powers of our races are quite formidable, but it is our own personal friendship that may do all the difference here. As such, I will be with you. Always."

Touched as usual by the Dragoon's sincerity, Rodger wiped a tear from his eye and nodded. In the meantime, Trikko had moved up and started a little speech of his own.

"Trikko is coming with you too. You've freed Trikko from T'rgashi, it is only right that Trikko fights until the bitter end beside you, master. Trikko owes it to you."

Rodger fell close to his pet and caressed his head.

"No, Trikko. You owe me nothing. You've given me all the happiness I needed when I was feeling low. You've already given me the only thing I really seek: happiness. And really, that's all that matters."

At these words, the Dragoon walked closer to the marine and asked:

"What about freedom?"

Rodger then stood up laughing gently, and said:

"Yeah… that too. The stuff worth fighting for."

"What about love?" Feodora asked behind him, smiling.

"Ah geeeeeeez… easy on the questions!" chuckled the marine, before he jogged away, followed by his little troupe.

The sun was rising on the third day. The sunset was not pretty on Zerus. The sun was so close, it looked menacing and the colours it generated where not even bright. It was quite dark on Char's surface most of the day. Most troops were not sleeping when the first Zerg offensive was launched. It was Josart who alerted the soldiers.

"OVERLORDS!! WE HAVE OVERLORDS!!"

Soon, every single marine, Goliath driver and wraith pilot was out on the outpost's open ground. Rodger ran towards Catrine, who had followed the invaders on Char. As he left the boiling hot ground, he heard Josart yell while he was firing his rifle:

"KILL'EM ALL!! KILL'EM ALL!!"

The lumbering flyers did not last long. In less than ten minutes, the platoon of a dozen Overlords was cut to pieces by missiles, bullets, and Dragoon orbs. Apparently, it was merely a test from T'rgashi, for inspection of the carcasses later showed that the Overlords were not ferrying any troops. While the united forces were getting prepared for a larger attack, the forces with the duty of killing Daggoth were dispatched. Rodger, Kurt, and Josart were saying their farewells. Rod and Kurt shook hands:

"Bye man." Said Kurt. "Remember… We areeeeeeeeeeee the championsssssssssssss…"

The two men laughed together at the memory. Josart hugged Rod close and started to cry like a baby. Rodger afterwards broke free, and said:

"You's are my closest and oldest friends. Don't you die on me! I brought some victory booze, just in case."

The two marines looked at their friend and smiled, while another soldier called behind them:

"Belek! Lamont! Are you coming or not?"

Rod looked as his friends turned their backs and walked towards the rest of the strike team, composed mostly of human technologies and a few Dragoons. As he saw his two comrades walk away, the olive-eyed pilot wondered if he would ever see them again. He really hoped so, incapable of imagining himself attending either of his friends' funeral. He took a deep breath, sighed, and headed back to base, dragging his Photon Disrupter on the ground to display his depression.

The rest of the morning was relatively quiet. The Zerg forces did not make a move since the Overlords. Most of the marines were chilled, standing tall on the great walls. Rodger was among them with Feodora, accepting the warm and unpleasant breeze of Char.

"Think they'll come again?" asked Rodger.

"Oh, they'll be back." Answered the medic, not noticing the sudden shaking of the ground.

"When Daggoth is dead, we're off. I can't wait! It may be dangerous, yes, but it's gonna be worth it!" cheerfully exclaimed Rod.

The emerald eyes glowed with excitement, and the couple came into a romantic embrace. Another marine who stood close shrugged, envious. He looked at the horizon to change his mind. He had been single for nearly ten years now, and every good couple made him quite jealous. As he looked into the red sky, he noticed movement at the very end of his sight range. Using powerful binoculars, he witnessed in horror the approach of the largest Zerg army he had ever seen.

He could identify every single breed of Zerg to date, and even a few he had never seen before. He yelled in terror at the sight of enormous Zerg creatures that had great blades at the end of their arms.

"In…Incoming!!" he yelped.

Rodger, startled, looked at where his peer was also looking. He also used binoculars to view the advance.

"Holy shit…" he said.

The numbers of attacking Zerg seemed endless.

"We're in very, very serious trouble." He added before passing the binoculars to Feodora.

"Siege tanks! Open fire! Zealots, on the line! Medics, in position! Prepare for the attack!"

It had begun. The Protoss Zealots were just out of the walls, their elegant psionic blades deployed. Bur'klok was ahead of all the Zealots being the leader of the Protoss ground division.

"By the Khala…" he said, as the Zerg army became more and more clear.

He clenched his fists together to activate his blades as well.

"I am not afraid to die. Death is a natural part of life. Everyone who comes into this life must leave it, sooner or later." He admitted to his brethren.

The other Zealots, over two thousand in numbers, nodded their heads, quite aware of their fate. Every Zealot got in battle stance while many Dragoons were positioned at the back, able to fire while protected by the Zealots. Some Dragoons joined the hundreds of marines positioned on the walls, while most of the medics were with the Zealots. A few medics stayed on the walls with the marines, Feodora being one. Many Goliaths were deployed with the Zealots, and some tanks not in Siege mode too. Protoss and human armies made a formidable team, but the Zerg had the advantage of being home. They knew this world very well, and their numbers seemed infinite.

"Alright, Siege tanks! Fire at will!" yelled a general.

The Siege tanks that were in artillery mode, secure behind the outpost walls, fired their Arclite shock cannons. The shells flew through the air before exploding against the invaders. Dozens of Zerglings were killed by the shots. Hydralisks were charred too. Luckily for the alliance, the Zerg army was taking its time and moving slowly. The human artilleries laid waste to many Zerg. Because the tank gunners did not really see what they were firing at and were only being told to fire at certain coordinates, they could not focus their fire on the enormous Zerg brutes. As they got closer, Rodger, from the wall, recognized them.

"Ultralisks!" he said out loud.

The Zerg army, still being shot at by the Siege Tanks, was now merely a few hundred meters away from the Protoss front line. Many Zealots were already choosing their opponent. The snickering Zerglings would lead the Zerg attack it appeared. Never had Rodger, Bur'klok, Feodora, or anyone for that matter seen such an amount of Hell hounds in their lives. No one would even bother counting them. Then, one particularly large Ultralisk, in the middle of the army, roared loudly.

Its name was Torrasque, and was the most powerful of all Ultralisks. His reinforced shell was tougher, his blades were keener, and he was nearly one fourth larger than his already enormous kin. Torrasque, being the Zerg General of the operation, roared loudly. The Zerglings, forming the first line, and Hydralisks, only a few meters behind, sank their claws and blades in the ground. It looked like they were preparing for a sprint.

"Here they come…" whispered Feodora.

Then, the Zerglings all gathered in a long, brooding snicker. Afterwards, being the fastest ground creature the galaxy knew, they charged forward, followed distantly by Hydralisks. On the other side, the Zealots all yelled "Entaro Adun! Entaro Raszagal!"

Rodger and all the marines on the wall opened fire on the charging Zerglings.

"Siege tanks! Cease-fire! Begin firing in the open valley!"

The reason why the General ordered this was because if the Siege Tanks kept shooting at the charging Zerglings, the explosion of the arclite shock shells would definitely make short work of the Zealots as well. Instead, they fired on open ground, where the still immobile troops stood. The Protoss warriors and Zerglings had faced off. From his post, Hertubiz observed the deadly dance of the Zealots. He noted that the psionic blades were even more effective against the Zerglings than they were against his own men, that day where the Protoss fought his squad.

He had little time to watch, for he had to fire his Photon Disrupter without stopping. However, when he lacked a target, or a clear shot against an enemy, he scanned the battlefield, watching Protoss warriors fight. It took little effort for a Zealot to slice a Zergling in half. The blue blades cut through the reinforced hides of Zerglings easily. He kept his eye on Bur'klok and he was amazed. He was truly a skilled warrior. Eight Zerglings surrounded him, and there he was, parrying their attacks, avoiding bites, and when a Zergling would be in a vulnerable position, he would nail them with a quick jab of a blade. The Zealot moved his leg away, avoiding a scratch, and sank his left blade deep into the creature's nape. Afterwards, he was less cautious and swung his blades accurately and effectively. In little time, there was only one hell dog left, and he stood horrified, surrounded by the decapitated or simply dead bodies of his comrades. The Zergling tried to jump over Bur'klok to find a new foe, but Bur'klok jumped in the air as well, both blades spread wide and spinning like a cyclone in a 720 degrees jump. When Bur'klok landed uneasily on a knee, two halves of a Zergling and a lot of blood littered the floor behind the warrior.

Rod was amazed by that technique and cheered on the Judicator. Bur'klok, of course, did not hear him and turned to slaughter yet another Zergling. So far, the alliance definitely had the upper hand. Thousands of Zerglings had already fallen, either to the deadly blades of the Zealots, the Gauss rifles of marines on elevated ground, the shells of tanks, the globes of Dragoons, or the heavy automatic guns of Goliaths. The Zergling rank was nearly infinite, and the small Zerg creatures just bolted forward, even though the Zealots went through the Zerglings like a hot knife through butter. Many of them, bypassing the ground warriors, encountered the Dragoons but were hammered by their firepower or great mechanical legs.

"Don't let the wall fall!" shouted a marine.

Rodger looked behind him to see who had said that, and by doing so, involuntarily dodged needle spines. Startled, Rod knelt to take cover behind the wall's ramp and fired. He saw that the Hydralisks got closer and started to attack. The needles weren't very effective against the wall, of course, but inflicted heavy damage against anything else, even the tanks. To Rod's despair, he started to hear cries of dying Zealots and blue fire erupting here and there on the Protoss line, those succumbing to the sharp needles. Medics were doing all in their power to help, but many times, the poor unarmed medics were killed. One fell, a needle spine going right through her, and another was simply eaten by a Zergling. A pretty redhead medic was to the aid of Bur'klok. Most of the Zealots had taken at least a few hits and their plasma shields, much inferior to the ones surrounding the Ganthritor, disappeared quickly. Many were killed by Hydralisks, and some by large groups of Zerglings.

Some men descended from the walls to be at ground zero to be of more help to the Protoss. Soon, heavy orange fog fell on the outpost.

"What is this?" asked Rodger to Trikko, who had joined him on the wall.

"Defiler dark swarm. This fog is in reality small insects. Defilers did this to lower our accuracy."

Rod and Feodora noticed that it was true. Many marines shot blindly and missed. The battle raged on inside the Defiler dark swarm. Rodger somehow spotted the Defiler who summoned the cloud, shot him, and blew him to pieces. Even if the creature was dead, the dark swarm remained. Looking around, Rodger noticed that some Hydralisks got in melee range with Zealots. It was a close fight between the two. Hydralisk blades were much longer, but the Protoss had keener weapons and swifter reflexes. Feodora snapped Rod out of his dream

"Rod! Look!"

The marine looked down and noticed many Zerglings slamming themselves and shaking the walls.

"Oh no, you don't!" shouted Rodger after them.

He leaned over the wall and fired his Photon Disrupter, slaying them all. While he tilted over the wall, a Hydralisk saw him and shot a needle at him. The needle went deep in Rodger's chest. Blood flew from the open wound and Rod fell backwards, screaming in pain.

"Rodger!!" shouted Feodora as she knelt next to him and started her treatment.

The needle painfully got out of the injured man's chest. Rodger exhaled noisily and stated out loud:

"Kurt, Josart… We could really use Daggoth's death right now…"

Meanwhile, about a hundred miles away, Siege tanks in artillery mode were taking out the sunken colonies that blocked the way to Daggoth. Often, large groups of Hydralisks would appear and fight against the small invasion. However, the Dragoons and marines were a great team, and although they would take some losses, they would still dominate over their Zerg opponents. Medics were unfortunately incapable of healing Dragoons, for they were after all made out of metal, and they also were very complicated to fix. When a Dragoon was killed, it meant he was dead forever. However, the mighty tanks were almost in range of the Cerebrate.

As Kurt and Josart took another step to advance with their group, they looked behind them. They were wondering how Rodger was doing out there, at the base.

"I hope that crazy bastard's alright." Kurt said out loud.

Josart agreed, but, to their surprise, green needles started to fly all around them. Another Hydralisk group was making its way towards the deployed Siege tanks, in an attempt to nullify the alliance's advance. There were about ten of the dangerous Zerg warriors, and the first thing they did was nailing a marine with their combined effort. The dead man, impaled through many spots, fell to the ground, looking blankly at the fiery sky were fireballs flew.

The marines' counterattack was quick. They got in front of the Siege tanks to protect them from the deadly spines and rifles were heard over the flow of a nearby lava river. The battle was a very even one, the Tiamat Hydralisks against the combined human forces. The Dragoons stayed behind the tanks and lobbed their blue globes from there, while medics were doing their best to heal the injured men. In a few minutes, the Hydralisks were dead, blasted or vaporized by their enemies.

"We may advance once again." Quoted Kurt, who had shown a flawless performance during the battle.

As the tanks un-deployed their arclite shock cannons to leave, the ground started to shake. The marines went for their weapons and the Dragoons got ready to attack. Three very large green worms erupted from the hot soil.

"Fire!!" cried a soldier.

Synchronized gunshots all hit the Zerg worms at the same time. When they all died after a few milliseconds only, the human invasion forces laughed at their weakness.

"I can see why the Overmind never used those weak things before!" joked Josart.

All the marines and even some Dragoons exploded in laughter at this comical reference to the new breed. The attacking force kept moving onward, not paying attention to the corpses of the Zerg Splitters they had killed a while ago. The worms split in four pieces each, so twelve little green worms were hopping around, in silence. The Splitters managed to get only a few feet behind the once again deployed Tanks and their escort without being noticed. Then, they rushed.

The first three splitters slammed themselves against a Dragoon exoskeleton and smeared it. The blue fluids found inside the cockpit that kept the Dragoon alive spread all over the floor. Bewildered, the marines and Dragoons clumsily counterattacked. The little worms kept on jumping, and they would almost never be hit. Even if they were, their weak exterior was an illusion, for they were still quite resistant.

"Attack! Attack!" shouted Kurt.

One Splitter was destroyed by a Dragoon's firepower. The new Zerg breed fought back, with a vengeful gusto. A group of five marines were killed after a single Splitter flew through the air and speared them all, staying in the air. Shortly after, it landed at Josart's feet, and the freckled-faced marine pumped several bullets into it, and soon, its organs splattered everywhere. Josart and Kurt accurately killed two more, and a short marine taking cover behind a Siege tank slaughtered another. The Splitters started to direct their attacks against the medics, and soon, the marines had nobody to heal them.

"It won't end like this! Fight!!" cried Kurt.

"KILL'EM ALL!! KILL'EM ALL!!" continued Josart.

It seemed hopeless: the Splitters kept evading the murderous bullets, and one even slammed itself right through a Siege Tank, killing the driver inside by ripping off his head. In little time, the same Siege tank exploded, crippled beyond recognition by holes all over the chassis. Two other Splitters had done the same for another Siege Tank, and another, and another. The slow moving Dragoon orbs could not keep up with the Splitters, and soon, all the Dragoons were dead, too. The agile Splitters had only suffered 8 losses in all.

"DIEEEE!!!" cried Kurt as he blew another one open with a mighty salvo of bullets.

Josart, in the meantime, had luckily evaded another worm's piercing strike. The short marine, being maybe not even five feet and four inches, had killed another. Kurt and Josart, although focusing their attention on the jumping Splitters, were very impressed by the skill of this marine.

"I have an idea! Everybody! Behind that immobilized tank!" shouted Josart.

He realised to his horror that he was really only talking to Kurt and this short soldier: everyone else was killed. So, the three marines got about eight meters away from the Siege Tank. The Splitters all jumped on the tank at the same time in order to get a boosted and more powerful leap. At that instant, Josart's plan exploded into play. The brown-eyed marine fired his Gauss rifle precisely on the fuel tank of the tipped over Siege Tank. The big war machine exploded heavily, consuming all the Splitters with the explosion. Josart, Kurt, and their companion dove on the ground, avoiding the terrible detonation. Painfully, they got back up, and Kurt took a look at his forearm radio.

"Shit! We were so close! Another mile and our Siege Tanks would have been in range!"

"That fricking blows!" shouted Josart, looking at their devastated artillery.

"Hold on, don't cry defeat just yet! Maybe one of these tanks is still operational, only damaged." The short marine proposed.

"Yeah, he's right!" cried Josart. "Let's try it!"

The other marine shrugged and said:

"He?"

The third marine's encounter suit visor rose to reveal a woman's face. She was actually quite pretty. She had quiet grey eyes, short black hair that made it to her shoulders with green highlights on two bangs that dropped over her cheeks. She was rather tanned and it was very obvious that she was ever battle-ready. She looked at the two men, who looked both confused and bedazzled.

"Ohhhh, boy-oy-oy… Am I ever sorry, m'aam. We thought you were a man! We don't see that many female marines in the Kel-Morian combine."

The woman, perhaps the same age as the men, simply answered:

"Well maybe you should visit the Umojan Protectorate one day. You'll see many women in the ranks of our armies."

She still seemed a bit insulted by the whole thing, and she started towards the tanks. Josart and Kurt stayed behind, looking at each other, completely stumped.

"So she's from Umoja… man, that's crazy! I always saw military service as a "man-job" but we've seen her in action! She's amazing!" stated Kurt.

Josart nodded, agape. He was more stunned by the female soldier's appearance more than anything else.

"She's hot…" he thought to himself before following her.

They searched through the ten Siege tanks that had formed their artillery with disappointing results. A few of them were aflame, as such re-commandeering them was definitely impossible, while others, like the one Josart had shot and destroyed, were tipped over by the merciless Splitters. Jo looked at the tanks with much despair.

"We'll never be able to get one of these hunks of junk working!"

Kurt seemed to agree, but the Umojan woman was stubborn. She inspected every single tank, making sure they were clearly destroyed. She brought some of the gunners and drivers from the tank out of the vehicles, but they were all dead. No hope remained to be able to save the tank crews. However, the female warrior had just removed a driver from his tank when she noticed the control panel was badly damaged.

"Hey!" she called to her two squad mates. "I bet you we could fix this thing! It's not that beaten up!"

Kurt and Josart looked at each other again. She was undoubtedly right, and quickly, the three marines got to work. Kurt, being an awesome technician, did most of the fixing, while Josart and his companion took care of basic work, such as oil changes or fuse repair. It took at least fifteen minutes, but eventually, the loud engine of the Siege tank started once again. The last warriors cheered happily. Josart tried to give the woman a hug, but she just pushed him back, chuckled and looked at him questionably. The green-haired man, timid about this, simply asked:

"What's your name? We're only three survivors out here, might as well make it good. I'm Josart Lamont, ma friends call me Jo, and this is Kurt, Kurt Belek. His few friends call him Kurt."

"Shut up!" laughed Kurt as he slapped his friend's shoulder.

The Umojan Protectorate soldier giggled as well, and she said:

"My name's Jasmina, Jasmina Anderson. I served as a marine in the 8th Umojan Protectorate Battalion. When Arcturus Mengsk started the construction of his Battlecruisers, we volunteered to aid the Kel-Morian combine and the Protoss in this operation."

She took a break, and looked sorrowful.

"Many of the warriors in the squad that was with us were friends of mine. Now they lie dead…"

Josart, although still afraid of another bad reaction from Jasmina, he put his hand on her shoulder and said:

"I'm really sorry. I lost a lot of friends at the beginning of my service too."

Jasmina looked up into Jo's bright brown eyes and smiled. As this was taking place, Kurt exclaimed:

"We don't have time for this! We'll introduce ourselves properly later! For now, the only thing that matters is Daggoth's destruction! Let's move boyos!"

The two other marines agreed, and the damaged Siege tank limped towards their objective.

An hour later, the tank reached the top of a hill, where a sunken colony once stood. The colony was the last one the tanks and their escort could destroy. Being a fairly steep hill, the Siege tank showed some effort to get on top. Once it reached the gory remains of the sunken colony, the engine of the tank flooded and the vehicle froze in place.

"For God's sake!" shouted Kurt. "That's the third time!"

The tall and handsome marine went to fix the engine once again, but Jasmina stopped him.

"It might be unnecessary. Maybe, before we head out, we just check if we're in range. We might be able to hit Daggoth from here."

Josart, trying to sound as useful as possible, said:

"Well, I'll go check it out! With our advanced halo-binoculars, we'll probably be able to see that Cerebrate."

Josart, at the gunner position, opened the airlock and left the Siege tank. Jasmina, at the commander position, followed him without saying anything. She joined the short man who was sitting on the tank's intimidating turret.

"See anything?" she asked softly.

Josart was a bit frightened by her sudden appearance, but happy to see her nonetheless. It gave him some time to look in her inviting grey eyes. He weakly smiled and shook his head, indicating his denial. Afterwards, he observed the large Zerg installation ahead. First, he saw swarms of Hydralisks patrolling around the base, and then he noticed a few sunken colonies and spore colonies, the anti-air defence structure of the Zerg. Scanning the base, he noticed a large, white worm, slobbering green ooze. He had seen a Cerebrate before on Moria, so he wasted no time.

"That's it! Daggoth!" he exclaimed happily as he passed the binoculars to the dark haired girl.

Jasmina saw Daggoth too, and then they went back inside the Siege tank quickly. If they had stayed outside two minutes longer, they would have seen the Overlord. The great lumbering beast saw the tank, twitched in surprise, and flew back to base as quickly as its pneumatized shell allowed it to.

"I hope the tank is in good enough shape to enter artillery mode." Said Jasmina, who pressed a button on the tank's control panel.

Josart, Kurt and their female companion were all at the commanding post, the only part of the tank that did not change in aspect while the tank transformed into Siege mode. The sound of the deploying of the mechanical foot-stands of the tank that would keep the tank in place was heard. The two dangerous cannons were pushed into the chassis normally, and the Arclite shock cannon replaced them.

"Are we ready?" asked Josart.

Before anyone could answer, a high pitch scream was heard. The three marines looked at each other, bewildered.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhit! Mutalisks! How did they find us?!" shouted Kurt.

Josart, feeling an adrenaline boost because of the intensity of the situation, or simply because of Jasmina's worried look, stood up and said:

"Well, we have to slow them down! I don't know how many Mutalisks are out there, but no matter what, we have to slow them down! Kurt, be at the gunner station! Take your time to aim! We need to nail Daggoth in one shot! Aim for the head! It's our only hope!"

Jo left the tank, holding his rifle close, ready for battle as Kurt took control of the Arclite shock cannon. When he was out, his mouth dropped. There were dark dots all over the sky. All these dots were Mutalisks. If they all got together in one big cloud, they could easily block the sun. Josart then knew his fate. The hideous Zerg flyers would make short work of him, and his comrades too once they were through with him. Quickly, Josart put his hand in the airlock.

"Gimme your gun, Kurt."

The tallest marine did not know what Jo was going to do, but he gave him his weapon, nevertheless.

"Thanks, man. Chances are you'll only have one shot on Daggoth. It has to be perfect. We won't have time to reload, not even once. Let's do this!"

Kurt roared in agreement.

Josart, standing on the Siege tank's turret, shouted after the Mutalisks:

"Alright Mutalisks! Come and get me!"

The short green-haired man dropped from the Siege Tank and jogged to the front of the hill. Pushing his physical strength to its extreme, Josart wielded a Gauss rifle in each hand, wobbling unsafely. With terrible accuracy, both rifles began to release hundreds of bullets.

"DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

Josart fired blindly into the sky. When a Mutalisk was greatly injured on its left wing, dropped from thousands of feet in the air and crashed into the ground, the other flyers noticed that the annoying marine was serious. Several dozens lowered their altitude to meet their enemy. Still shaky from manipulating two Gauss rifles at once, Josart kept firing while screaming in anger. He blew a Mutalisk's mouth, and it died after a few seconds of uneasy flight. The eleven remaining Mutalisks all fired their glaive wurm at once.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" shouted Josart, never releasing his finger from the triggers of his weapons.

While sidestepping, he managed to avoid most of the acid, yet three glaives successfully hit him and pushed him to the floor. Josart looked at his damaged encounter suit, but completely determined to finish the job, in victory or defeat; he did not feel the enormous burn on his chest. If he had time, he would have touched the ripples on his burned skin. Most of his torso had turned red and it was evidently the worst burn he had ever had in his life, but he had no time for pain.

He winced in pain at the weight of his rifles, and shot the creatures that had just performed an attack run. He killed another. He saw that it was not all, more and more Mutalisks poured from the skies, releasing their acid from long range. The projectiles were much slower moving then wraith lasers, and Jo, although wounded, was still able to avoid the hundreds of projectiles that threatened him. He fired his two weapons without discontinuing, but then noticed a group of five Mutalisks making a move against the Siege Tank.

"No! Never!" murmured Josart weakly as he painfully jogged back up the hill.

Just as the Mutalisks were about to fire, the green-haired man fired again. Although he did not kill any of the flying beasts, he did wreck their shot. Four Mutalisks were thrown of balance and were not able to release their glaive wurm. As for the fifth one, it successfully shot its acid at the tank. Josart, sighing deeply, saw no other option. He dove in front of the artillery and took the blow. The glaive wurm bounced off the marine and onto the tank, but inflicted little damage to it.

As for Josart, he could not get up. His eyes were closed. This time, the pain was too intense to be ignored. The shot had caught him in the knee, and the flesh surrounding his kneecap was charred. The bone was exposed to the hot, unwelcoming air of Char.

"Aahhhh…. DIEEEEEEEEE!!!"

On the edge of death, Josart fought on. Although he had been with the most cowardly Protoss of all, Aldaris, Jo still had learned an important rule in the way of the First-Born: Always fight to the death. Even though he was unable to stand, the marine kept firing both rifles. Their weight had begun to crush his forearms, and he knew he would not be able to continue fighting the Mutalisks for long. When he saw another twelve coming straight for him, Josart knew he was in trouble. The high-pitched noise of Mutalisks launching their wurms was heard. Josart managed to crawl right out of the way and counterattacked with great success. He killed two of the creatures, but his left arm gave up. It wobbled uncontrollably and dropped Kurt's rifle.

He tried to move his numbed arm, but had no success. It was too tired. While he was busy trying to pick up his second rifle and cursing his weakness, a Mutalisk flew from below the hill and faced him. Jo stared right into the creature's mouth. This one was too close, he knew, and with a disabled leg, he would not be able to avoid the glaive wurm from this range.

"Do your worst, asshole…" spat Josart.

The Mutalisk seemed to be laughing and it opened its mouth wide to release the acid. At that moment, Jasmina leapt into the fray, holding her own rifle. With a mighty leap from the tank's turret, she landed on the Mutalisk and blasted its head with as many bullets as needed. When the flyer passed into death, she jumped off and rolled on the ground. She was now right beside her partner.

"You were great, Jo… Let me take it from here."

She winked at the injured man and gave him a smile. Then she looked at the sky and fired everywhere, trying to harass or harm as many Mutalisks as she could with her single rifle, while Jo finally got the chance to squint at the pain he felt. 

Inside the tank, Kurt was scratching his head frantically. He thought he had coordinates for a good shot, but as Josart said, he would not have time to reload. He could clearly hear the Mutalisks' long ranged attacks against his two marine friends, and from the gunner position, he could dimly see them evading. His middle finger hesitated to press the fire push button. The blue eyes closed, and he clenched his hand into a fist and hammered it on the red button. That was the most intense moment of Jasmina and Josart's lives. First, they heard the deafening sound of an arclite shell being fired.

The tank's projectile seemed to move in slow motion. The two soldiers paid no attention to the flyers anymore. They followed the shell with their eyes, holding their breath. They preyed no Mutalisk would get in the way and intercept the bomb. Jasmina bit her fingers as the shell nearly skinned a Mutalisk's tail. Seeing that the tank had managed to fire, the Mutalisks went after the projectile and fired their wurms. The human projectile was much faster, though, and the acid could not catch up to it. Kurt, Jasmina and Jo held their breath as the shell entered the base. The bomb flew through the air at a blinding speed right towards Daggoth. It exploded into a bright blast.

The marines squinted to protect their eyes, and then Josart feebly took his binoculars once again. He looked at the missile's impact point and saw that…

The launch was a direct hit. Daggoth's head was blown open, and his brains were everywhere around his bloodied corpse. They noticed that all of the Mutalisks, evidently minions of Daggoth had frozen into place. They now stupidly flapped their wings and stayed still. Jo laughed softly, and pointed at the stunned Mutalisks. Afterwards, no longer having to fight the pain, he fell unconscious. Jasmina, not believing that one tank and three marines had been enough to kill Daggoth, was quickly to the short man's aid. Although she knew he could not hear her, she spoke to the fainted man.

"Josart… you're a real hero. If it wasn't for you, we'd all be dead. Thanks… I'll always remember you. I've never seen a marine fight with two Gauss rifles before, nor have I ever met a charming, funny guy like you."

At that moment, Jo's head rose and he exclaimed:

"Awwwww!! You're so sweet, Jasmina!"

The girl was stumped.

"I'm not unconscious, you know. I'm just a good actor. And I'm reallyyyyyyy tired!! Yes, you've probably never seen a man hold two Gauss rifles before, but I don't recommend it to anyone!"

Jasmina laughed loudly. Although Kurt, who had emerged from the airlock and wiped the sweat of his brow, perceived the laughter as annoying, Jo thought it was simply adorable.

"He needs help." A blushing girl said.

Kurt nodded, and the two marines put their comrade safely in the commander's station, where Jo could lie down. He fell asleep very quickly as the tank became mobile once again. Before they moved, Jasmina sent a message to the leaders of the outpost, as well as Zeratul and Mengsk, who were up in space.

"This is Jasmina Anderson, from the Daggoth strike team. We got him! Now, the way for the crystal bearers is clear."

A few minutes later, a reply was sent, as well as congratulations. Afterwards, the tank finally set a course for the outpost.

T'rgashi grew alarmed; he had lost psychic link to Daggoth. He had been calling his Cerebrate for over fifteen minutes now, and still he got no answer. The Overmind knew the alliance's plan; Rodger had attended their meeting. Perhaps T'rgashi should have reinforced the defensive network around Daggoth. He just never thought the attackers could move that deep in his territory. The great eye was tormented: Daggoth did send him a transmission telling him a few Splitters had annihilated the invaders.

"Answer my call!" shouted the Overmind one last time.

Daggoth did not reply. Infuriated that his finest General was dead and that the Tiamat stood there statically, the Overmind decided it was time to launch his counterattack. An hour later, he had brought in his royal air armada. It consisted of one million Mutalisks and a few thousand Scourges. He knew that if he launched this at the outpost, it would easily destroy it. However, the brain of the Zerg saw a greater use for his fleet. If he could destroy the alliance ships around Zerus, the ground outpost would no longer have reinforcements, and eventually run out of ammunition, food, and drinkable water. Besides, after the Ganthritor and its large escort were destroyed, the enemy base would show little resistance, for T'rgashi could send in wave after wave of Zerg attackers, for he could spawn them right here, on Char. His Zerg larvae could mutate into the creature of their Cerebrate's choice.

Having thought it over and believing to be the most crippling attack he would ever launch against the alliance, he spoke to his fleet.

"Air warriors, go! Destroy the Ganthritor and its Battlecruisers! Leave nothing!"

The Mutalisks, in a single unified cry, departed from Zerus to execute their master's command.

Meanwhile, in outer space, Jean Duchesne, the French commander of the Battlecruisers, walked around in circles. He was unsure if the ground battalion was doing all right. He had heard from the Ganthritor that Daggoth was dead, which renewed hope within him. However, the hardest part was still not done. T'rgashi would be definitely well defended, and he doubted that a few groups of warriors could just slip by the watchers, especially because they were carrying those shiny crystals. Before any more doubts could reach the Commodore, alarms rang everywhere in his Battlecruiser, the "T.F. _Eiffel"._ He ran to his command deck to receive the report from his operators.

"Sir, we have incoming!"

Jean Duchesne ordered to arm the missile bays and ready the laser cannons. One of his operators panicked:

"Sir, there are too many on radar! Our cruiser can't keep count!"

At that statement, Duchesne ran to the window, and saw a huge fleet of Mutalisks approach, followed by many Scourges.

"_Nom de putain de merde!" _exclaimed Jean in his language. "Fire at will! Order the other fleet members to do so as well!"

Soon, the missiles flew abundantly in the sky, shredding Mutalisk flesh. Although about thirty Mutalisk died per salvo, times fifteen, because of the fleet's total cruisers, more and more appeared from Char's surface. They flew at a high velocity, choosing their target. Soon, the Battlecruisers were engulfed in a cloud of Mutalisks. The flyers opened fired on every single capital ship. Although the glaive wurms were truly ineffective against the reinforced steel of the Battlecruisers, there were hundreds of thousands of them hitting each ship every second. It was not long before the commanders of the cruisers could feel the damage. One of them had a core system failure in the ATS laser battery. It would no longer fire, but still could destroy enemies using missiles.

The _Eiffel _was the capital ship with the least amount of damage. It fired its lasers, obtaining clear shots and vaporizing several of the flyers. Jean Duchesne grew worried when he heard a very large explosion: one of the Battlecruisers had been destroyed completely. He did not hesitate. He picked up his radio and called to the Protoss fleet:

"_Au secours! _We are under heavy attack!"

The message made it clearly to Zeratul, who was commanding the Protoss fleet. He ordered the entire fleet to face the human Battlecruisers and he noticed the enormous amount of attacking Mutalisks.

"By the Gods…" whispered the Prelate. "We have no choice. We must aid our allies! Prepare to charge!"

The slow, hulking Protoss fleet made its way towards the Battlecruisers, who were exactly at the very end of Zeratul's sight range. In the meantime, Arcturus Mengsk had sent a radio message to the ground station. It was very brief and straightforward, for no time could be wasted.

Inside an army tent, the radio message was received. The General immediately asked what news came from the Ganthritor and the great fleet.

"Under heavy attack. Battlecruisers' destruction imminent. Hasten invasion. Overmind's quick death requested."

The General grew worried. He quickly turned to a nearby Lieutenant and ordered:

"Quickly round up the crystal groups. The outpost is unimportant compared to the success of the operation. Go!"

The Lieutenant froze into place for a while, certain that if defenders were subtracted from the defensive line, the Zerg would overrun the base, but then he carried out the order. He was not sure how many soldiers would comply with the order, for many were dead and others would not even be able to hear his voice in the speakers. Nevertheless, he cried as loudly as he could into the speakers:

"All units for the crystal mission report to your General's tent immediately! We'll discuss the movement! I repeat: all units for the crystals mission report to your General's tent immediately!!"

The Lieutenant's prediction proved to be correct. Up on the walls and below them, the battle raged on and on, and hardly anyone could hear the speakers. The Zerg had pressed their attack. Casualties were now being felt equally on both sides, although the Zealots were still quickly decimating the Zergling rank. The dark swarm, still reducing ranged attacks' accuracy, remained upon the outpost. Now, it was night time, and the illuminating orbs of Dragoons, gunshots and psionic blades were the only things that shone in the night. Every marine, tank gunner, or Goliath pilot had to be very careful not to waste ammo or destroy his own allies.

Hydralisks were now focusing their spines against the marines on elevated ground. Because the dark swarm was a Zerg substance, Hydralisks could see clearly through it. More than three times, needles had hit Rodger, but Feodora was always there to heal him. As for Bur'klok and his Zealots, although their forces had taken losses, they were still fighting heavily and dealing more damage to the Zerg rank than the other way around, especially now that the members of the Tiamat Brood stood still, useless and incapable to fight. Fenix and the Dragoons, lobbing their orbs in the company of tanks and Goliaths, slaughtered rushing Zerglings or immobile Hydralisks. Several times, Zerglings would reach the wall and hammer it with their great claws or bash their head against it. The wall was made of solid titanium steel, and would not be fissured easily.

The soldiers on top of the walls often took care of the hellhounds. Feodora watched the battle closely. Tears were forming in her eyes. At this moment, she wished she were back in Moria, in her disgusting and hostile bar. It was not as disgusting as the horrors she witnessed though: Zergling carcasses laid everywhere on the soil. The hot dirt was entirely red from the blood of several creatures. A few men were dead on the walls, and their blood went to stain her white medic boots. She looked at one man, three needle spines going into his throat, with half of his skull revealed. She thought she was about to vomit.

Likewise, the beheading of Zerglings by Zealots and Hydralisks being pierced through the chest by powerful psionic blades was not a scene the young woman was familiar with. She often had to heal the most repulsive of wounds, too. As she watched the death of a Dragoon, cut in many places by a group of Hydralisks, she thought she heard something. It sounded like a man shouting orders. Paying more attention, she heard:

"I repeat, all units for the crystal mission report to your General's tent immediately!!"

Quickly, she yelled over the noises of war:

"Rodger! We have to go! Daggoth is dead! The crystal groups are summoned to the army tents!"

The olive-eyed marine stopped vaporizing enemies with his Photon Disrupter, looked at Feodora with his tired eyes and nodded. From over the wall, he could shout much louder than Feodora:

"Crystal groups! Report to the army tents!"

Fenix, Trikko, some Zealots and most men involved turned around to return to the army tents. While they were retreating, some were caught in the back by needle spines and were killed. Luckily, the members of the Khalis and Uraj expedition entered the walls quickly, not giving the swarm time to penetrate the outpost. In the meantime, Rodger and Feodora had descended from the wall and ran to Fenix and Trikko to see if they were all right. To their relief, the Dragoon had only suffered minor scratches and his plasma shields took most of the damage. As for Trikko, he had been cut at several different locations by needle spines. Feodora healed the Hydralisk and set stitches as quickly as possible.

"We're off to destroy T'rgashi!" cheered Rodger.

The four joined a great group of marines, Dragoons, a few Zealots and Goliaths, who all stood before the General and the army tents. The twin crystals, Uraj and Khalis, were placed on a desk. Their energies glowed in harmony, adding melodious sound. The General then said:

"We have no time to waste! Those accursed Zerg have attacked our fleet high above us! If we do not destroy the Overmind pronto, we will be abandoned on this God-forsaken world!"

At these words, many men began to panic, but the First-Born were calm about this. They knew that dying trying to kill the Universe's greatest enemy was a death worth dying for.

"As such, I request each crystal bearer to pick up their respective crystal immediately."

Rod slowly walked towards the purple stone, hypnotized by its light. He held it in his arms and smiled at his friends. Feodora gave him the thumbs up while Trikko smiled widely.

"I will now ask the volunteer for the Khalis mission to come claim his own crystal, as well." Continued the General.

To Rod's horror, he saw Aldaris get up and join him near the desk. He held the light blue stone in his own, skinny arms. He leered at Rodger and said:

"We meet again, Rodger Hertubiz."

Rod returned the stare. Now, he truly felt uncomfortable. The traitor Aldaris was the leader of the Khalis operation. Rod wondered why Zeratul allowed this to be. Either way, it did not matter who carried the Khalis, so long as it came to the same end: the complete annihilation of the Zerg swarms.

"Let's not go back to old hatred, Aldaris. We're on the same team."

"…For the moment." Murmured Aldaris.

The ex-Judicator then left, carrying the Khalis and followed by his group, consisted of marines, medics and Goliaths. As for Rodger, he had to show the initiative to be a leader. He stretched his arm upwards to get his squad's attention, a mix of men, medics and Zealots.

"Okay, troops! You know the plan! We have to move westward and reach the Overmind's plateau while the Khalis group does the same but eastward. We have to place the crystal near the Overmind. Afterwards, uh, we'll have to hope these stones will work in unison and smash T'rgashi! Remember, if for any reason at all I am killed en route to the Overmind's location, anyone is subject to pick up the crystal. The Uraj must reach the enemy's plateau at all costs!"

Rodger's squad nodded, and they began their long march through the black wasteland of Char. A young Zealot, perhaps one hundred and sixty seven years old, ran to reach Rodger, who was walking proudly aside Fenix and Trikko.

"Commander…"

Rod smiled: it was the first time anyone in his life had given him that title.

"I once heard a legend from my grandfather. He told me that in order to channel the twin crystals' awesome energies, they must both touch a Zerg creature. Each crystal will destroy the creature it touched and allow them to recreate the Xel'Naga's powers."

Rod halted the march for a second.

"Are you sure? Could we just touch T'rgashi with it?" he asked.

The young Zealot said no, for both crystals were used to make the Overmind, and told him that his grandfather was a very elderly Protoss and had seen many worlds and situations.

"Would it be dangerous for me, an assimilated creature, to carry it?"

"No, I don't think so, because you are not yet a fully grown Zerg creature." the young warrior answered.

"Very well," said Rodger. "We will need to touch a Zerg creature with each crystal… I hope the Khalis group will do the same thing… I'll make sure the crystal stays away from Trikko."

The Hydralisk laughed and the group kept marching.

On the war-torn sector of the outpost, the battle raged. Zealots were still cutting their opponents from where they stood, and although many troops had left the field to participate in the crystals operation, the defence was still powerful. The un-deployed tanks did not suffer any losses, nor did the Goliaths, and their firepower decimated many Hydralisks quickly. Whenever Zerglings would approach these machines, Zealots on guard would destroy them. Bur'klok, still fighting tirelessly, looked at the sky and thanked the Gods for the slumber of Adun. He would have fallen from exhaustion if it were not for the Protoss custom. He then turned to cut a Hydralisk through the throat. Never had the young warrior participated in such a violent battle. He walked upon the blood of his enemies, and he almost always had to jump over a dead body to approach a new adversary. His psionic blades, arms, face and torso were all stained with the life fluids of Zerg.

Looking to his left, he noticed another Zealot, a bit older than he, exhausted, barely able to stand. It was Obrut, whose pink eyes demonstrated the greatest of fatigue. Three Hydralisks approached him hastily and he did not turn to face them. Bur'klok charged towards them but it was too late. A volley of fourteen spines had mortally stung the gentle hockey clerk. He fell to the hot ground, and within a few seconds, he turned into a column of blue fire.

The infuriated Judicator was determined to kill Obrut's murderers, and he started by jumping in the air and kicking one violently in the face. It was off balance, and fell on its back. The Zealot did not allow it to get up. He jumped on the Zerg creature's stomach and sank both his blades deeply into the Hydralisk's chest. Bur'klok quickly retrieved his blades from his foe, and then turned to face the other two. Bewildered, the two other abominations opened their ruffs to launch their spines, and as Bur'klok was finally expecting his death, they looked at each other in fear and fled.

The Zealot, not understanding why his enemies did not kill him, turned around. For the first time in his life, the young warrior yelled in fear. One of the monstrous Zerg was charging forward, roaring madly. Its great Kaiser blades swung left in right, "golfing" Zealots to the other side of the battlefield. Those who survived were severely injured, but medics were quickly to their aid. The hulking Ultralisk was shot many times in the head by the tanks, and he stopped for a few seconds to look around.

Afterwards, the huge beast just kept moving forward. Bur'klok miraculously dove to the side, avoiding the Ultralisk. The gunners of the Siege tanks were in disbelief. The thing had survived over ten shells in the head! It kept on charging, crushing the comparatively little Protoss who were too slow to get out of its way. It got to the wall and started to hack at it with his blades. The marines on the wall shot everything they had at the large beast, but it did not seem to affect it.

In the meantime, Zealots had regrouped around it and started to slash at its feet. Sometimes, the Ultralisk would actually feel the cuts he was suffering, but quickly turned to the Zealot who had hurt him, lacerate him, and continue slicing the wall. A large dent was soon seen in the heavy wall. SCVs from the other side of the base were doing everything they could to fix the barrier. The Ultralisk seemed unshakable. However, a young Zealot, who received a jump boost from two of his comrades, reached the Ultralisk's belly. He remained attached to it, and then maniacally stabbed the creature again and again. The large monster truly felt it this time, as one of his ribs had been cut at three different places. Stumbling around, struggling to remain in the standing position, the Ultralisk finally fell on the ground, killed. When it dropped to the floor, it crushed the Zealots who had defeated it.

"By Adun!" shouted Bur'klok as he noticed more of the heavy Zerg warriors approaching.

Torrasque was charging with his brethren. The Ultralisk he had sent ahead had taken the brunt of the damage while he and other Ultralisks could get closer to the base. At the same time, Torrasque had called an airstrike of a few Mutalisks who were going to get rid of the marines situated on the outpost walls. He knew the flyers would probably be killed, but it was worth a try. Torrasque and his comrades charged forward, some imitating the first Ultralisk while others actually focused on fighting the ground warriors. Torrasque went for a tank. Using his awesome blades, he ripped off the tank's turret and then held the tank's chassis in his huge arms. He threw it far away; it landed upside down and exploded.

As the Zerg General was enjoying the fury of combat, he noticed some footprints going to a hidden trail. The trail was very long, but would eventually lead right to the Overmind's plateau. Torrasque had heard the alliance's plan: they would carry out two crystals to destroy his master. The creature roared and precipitated itself into the trail and followed the footprints. He was determined to kill the crystal bearers and save T'rgashi.

Far away from the bloody conflict, in a desolate plain decorated by remains of dead Zerg creatures, Rodger and his squad moved onward. They had only encountered small squadrons of Zerglings and had suffered no losses. They were particularly being careful not to be spotted by an Overlord, for these would alert the entire Broods. While the trail of forces moved quickly, Trikko froze into place and bowed his head.

"Trikko? We have to keep going. The survival of Zeratul and everyone else aboard the Ganthritor depends on how fast we get to the Overmind."

The Hydralisk looked into Rodger's eyes and whispered:

"This is holy ground. This is where the very first Zerg larva was inserted on Zerus."

A few men were getting impatient.

"Who cares about Zerg history? We have to go on and kill the Overmind! We have no time for this."

Trikko, angered, spat:

"This is the legacy of the Xel'Naga! We were created here! Trikko cares about Zerg history! Trikko never thought he would have the chance to behold this holy place!"

The Protoss Zealots got involved too, saying it was not Xel'Naga legacy, because the Zerg massacred the Xel'Naga a few centuries after being created. Soon, everyone was shouting at Trikko except Rodger, Fenix and Feodora, who stood aside, and watched the stubborn Hydralisk defend his opinions. A Zealot activated his psionic blades, but before he could turn to violence, Rodger tackled him to the ground. The leader got back up quickly and shouted:

"Have you all lost your minds?? It's true, now is not the perfect time for a lesson in Zerg history, but Trikko is a Zerg! He has the right to worship this place!"

The leader turned to his pet and added:

"Go ahead, Trikko, but make it quick!"

For the next two minutes, Trikko looked down on the hot soil, growling silently. When the large head rose again, all the marines and Zealots were mumbling against him. Rodger heard sentences such as

"…we should have never brought it…"

"…it's a ZERG! How can we trust a Zerg??"

"Maybe Rodger is with T'rgashi after all…"

Shaking his head, the dark green-eyed man silently walked back to the front of the line. He looked back and saw Trikko speaking with Fenix. He overheard:

"It's no use. Trikko will never be accepted in your worlds. Trikko only wishes to help! Trikko is misjudged because Trikko is a Hydralisk. Why can't they all see Trikko has changed?"

Rod, in his mind, agreed to every word his pet was saying. It was unfair, indeed, and it seemed like it was all racism's doing. Fenix spoke to the beast as well, but Rodger could not hear what he was saying. Whatever it was, it did not seem too comforting, for the Hydralisk slithered to Rod head low. While he got back to the head of the army, the other warriors gawked at him and kept on condemning him.

"I'm really sorry, boy… I still like you. You're my favourite pet."

Trikko smiled, but the pilot could tell he was still sorrowed. Meanwhile, in the back of the trail, fifteen minutes later, Feodora was hanging out with Fenix. The big metal spider had always been kind to her, and she really enjoyed his company.

"How far are we from the Overmind?" she asked.

"Two hours, I'd say," replied Fenix, "the perimeter will be well guarded; there is no doubt about that. However, if we can sneak by the defenders and place the Uraj close to T'rgashi after having touched one of his minions with it, our part in this operation will be a success. Chances are the Khalis group will get there before us. I suspect they're approaching the Overmind's plateau as we speak. Not only is their path shorter than ours, but they left before us too."

Feodora grinned; she really wanted to play a big role in this operation. Fenix, seemingly remembering something, grabbed something off his back with one of his enormous legs. It looked like a wrist blade for psionic blades, only it was smaller and it was white.

"What's this?" asked Feodora, curious.

Fenix seemed proud of himself when he answered:

"I got in touch with my old forging self. I gathered some Zealots and designed this special wrist grenade launcher just for you. It's relatively light, but you'll find it effective. We loaded it with a flare that will have a blinding effect on however you shoot it at."

Feodora, not believing how Fenix cared about her, thanked him and proudly placed the launcher on her forearm.

"Be very careful, the "optical flare" as we like to call it, is dangerous for anyone around it. Also, you only have one shot, so make it good."

Feodora nodded happily, joyful that someone had created a weapon for her. She went around pretending to aim it as Fenix laughed jovially. Afterwards, Fenix and the medic made their way to the front line again to be with Rodger, being a friend, a boyfriend and a leader at the same time.

A few miles away, the Khalis group had reached the peak of T'rgashi's plateau. As expected, the defenders were numerous and broad. Most of the defenders were Zerg Arachs, another breed neither Aldaris nor the humans had seen. The terrors were in a titanic melee conflict against the ranged Goliaths. Never had the marines seen such a powerful Zerg creature. It was not as impressive as an Ultralisk in strength, but it was fast, accurate, and smart. Its harmful acid and deadly spikes were also inflicting massive damage against the armoured Goliaths. In less then fifteen minutes, the twelve Arachs had laid waste to most of the Khalis group, having lost only one unit.

Many marines were on the flat of their backs, burnt beyond recognition, their skin charred black. Others had suffered greater injury, being pierced at key spots. The worst ones were scrambling around, missing an arm or a leg, dying extremely slowly by the blood loss. The spidery monsters pulverized medics who came to their aid. Aldaris and a few marines had sneaked away, moving slowly towards the great brain. They were taking cover behind large rocks whenever an Arach would walk by, for the entire plateau was beset by hundreds of Arachs. Those who were not busy destroying what remained of the Khalis expedition were simply on patrol.

"I think we're safe for now. Let's move!" ordered a marine.

Aldaris nodded silently, holding the light blue crystal. They sprinted for about a hundred meters, but then two Arachs on patrol saw them. The eight legs of the Arachs moved quickly as they ran after their enemies. Two marines out of six turned and shot the Arachs.

"GO!!! We'll delay them!"

The crystal bearer and his meek escort kept on charging ahead. The two marines who had sacrificed themselves to assure the success of the operation were cut down mercilessly. In the meantime, Aldaris got very close to T'rgashi.

"I think we're close enough to the Overmind! Drop the Khalis here!"

Luckily for the expedition, T'rgashi was too busy beholding the attack against the outpost with his powerful eye. He did not hear the marine say this. Aldaris snickered. He dropped the crystal, never slowing down his bitter laughter.

"What is so funny, Protoss?" asked a marine. "We have no time for jokes! We have to try and sneak back to base!"

"Yes…" agreed Aldaris. "I SHALL! YOU shall NOT, impure beings!"

In a quick movement, Aldaris activated his psionic blades. He sliced a marine through the chest with his left hand and slashed another's head right off. He pulled back his blades and showed them to his allies once again.

"B…Betrayer!" shouted one of the survivors as he went for his Gauss rifle.

Aldaris, with a smooth roundhouse, kicked him in the face, leapt on his back and sank both his blades in the human's spine. The death was quick and painless. As the last man was about to fire his rifle, a terrifying roar was heard on the plateau. The Protoss and the human turned to see Torrasque, who had followed them for so long. The great Zerg General shoved the marine aside and roared for several seconds, only a few meters from Aldaris' comparatively frail and weak form.

Aldaris shrieked in terror. The ex-Judicator fell on his back from the roar. His golden eyes blinked several times as Torrasque's foot stalled three meters over him. Then everything was dark for him. He saw nothing, felt nothing, and could not even smell the terrible odour of the dead planet. The navy-faced traitor was now in the land of the Dead. Squashed like a bug, Aldaris turned into a column of blue fire.

Torrasque grunted many times, and the marine who had been thrown aside associated the rumbles as laughter. In a last heroic act, the marine crawled next to the Khalis and taunted the large beast:

"Hey! Fatty! Over here!"

Torrasque turned to face his forgotten opponent.

"Crush me too, fat ass!"

The Ultralisk did not have to hear it twice. His large foot stomped the marine, staining his impressive foot with human blood. However, Torrasque had skinned the crystal. There was then a pain that the Ultralisk had never felt before. Light blue energy radiated everywhere within him. In a large explosion, Torrasque disappeared into fragments of purple. The Zerg General had fought his last battle, and the marine had made the final sacrifice to assure victory. The nervous eye of T'rgashi quickly turned to view what had happened. As he noticed the Khalis, and how it glowed with a purple light, he shouted:

"No!! One of the crystals is in place!" The Overmind cried loudly: "I care not! The pathetic alliance fleet will be no more soon, and the carriers of the Uraj will never find their way here!"

The great eye of T'rgashi then turned to the battlefield once again. The raging Ultralisks had decimated most of the alliance forces, and still far too many Zerglings stood, very alive. A large amount of Hydralisks was still living as well. As for the airstrike, although the Mutalisks who had participated in it were all dead, blown away by the missile turrets, their success had still been grand. They had killed about twenty-five marines up on the inaccessible walls. Now, many Zerg warriors ran freely, not being damaged by the annoying Gauss rifles of the men. Most of the Ultralisks had left the Zealots alone and now all focused on scratching and hammering the wall. The alliance rank was down to two hundred Zealots, ninety Dragoons, twelve tanks, seventy Goliaths, five hundred marines, and seventy Medics. In the enemy rank, over seven thousand units remained. More were pouring from nearby bases too.

An Overlord, in a desperate effort, carried an Ultralisk in his ventral sac and deposited him in the middle of the outpost. The raging terror was dealing heavy damage from inside, smearing the Siege tanks that were bombarding the reinforcements with their arclite shock cannons. Afterwards, the Ultralisk smashed the radar tower, cutting the only link between the Ganthritor and the ground outpost. Finally, pilots had entered their wraiths and after ten minutes, managed to kill the creature.

On a nearby hill outside the outpost and away from the conflict, a damaged Siege tank stood. Josart, Kurt and Jasmina had finally made it back to base.

"Oh my God…" whispered Jasmina at the incredible amount of death found on the field.

Jo was still unconscious and did not hear her speak, but Kurt was stunned too.

"We have to do something!" exclaimed the woman.

"Yeah? Rush right in there while listening to "flight of the Valkyries" and run over all the monsters? We'd be heroes for sure! Let's do it!" mumbled a sarcastic Kurt.

The pale-eyed woman simply looked at the tall handsome man and begged him to do something.

"There is nothing we can do! Look at them all! Our outpost is going to be overrun in a matter of minutes!"

Jasmina growled, opened the airlock and got out of the tank, holding her rifle. Sighing and shaking his head, the dark-haired giant got to the gunner station and whispered:

"I swear that girl's got a death wish…"

He listened to rifle shots just on top of him, where the Umojan woman was. Knowing the girl would do little damage herself, Kurt shrugged his shoulders and fired the two cannons of the tank, without deploying into siege mode. Luckily for them, the Zerg were concentrating all their efforts on the outpost and their defenders. Even if the tank on top of the hill was doing certain damage, they heeded no attention to it. So there they were firing at the attackers, knowing that if the crystals were not powered up and rejoined once again, everything was lost.

They were not the only ones who knew that everything now rode on Rodger and the other Uraj carriers' backs. Zeratul, Arcturus and the other Protoss who remained in space, as well as Jean Duchesne, were helplessly beholding the destruction of their fleet. Although the Mutalisks had suffered far more losses than they had, the small flyers were quickly chewing through the capital ships. The Battlecruisers now only had six units, while the Protoss fleet had been crippled by the Scourges, the lasers of the warships being too slow to catch up with the fast moving flying creatures. Several warships were destroyed, the Ganthritor itself having taken a severe hit. The plasma shields on it were disabled, and it suffered from a minor engine failure. Its blue lasers still fired, slaying as many Mutalisks as possible.

On the command deck, it was definitely hopeless. Zeratul clasped his red cape tightly while Mengsk's lips trembled with fear. The Protoss who were at the command deck repeated the damage taken, enemies in sight, damage inflicted and so on and so fourth. One could barely hear himself breathe in the Ganthritor's control room, such noise reigned within it.

As for outside the ship, only one word could describe it: violent. Everywhere, Mutalisks and Scourges were being slaughtered and vaporized. When a Mutalisk died, twenty more came from Char to replace it. The numbers of the aerial force were uncountable. The glaives the Mutalisks were spitting would create good cover fire while the suicidal Scourges would slam themselves into the hulls of the Battlecruisers or warships. This tactic proved quite dangerous, for the Jormugand Mutalisks –because T'rgashi could no longer rely on the Tiamat Brood for his attacks- would even throw themselves in front of the Scourges to take the hits, allowing their smaller kindred to do the damage.

Soon, the fifth Battlecruiser of the human fleet was eradicated. With no way to stop or delay the never-ending onslaught, the only thing the alliance could do was fight pointlessly, trying to dim the airborne offence. Zeratul, on the Ganthritor, with sweat on his brow, just said quietly:

"Raszagal, I may be with you this day, my good Matriarch. But please, watch over Rodger. Allow him to succeed in this operation. I'm not sure I am ready to depart from the world of the living."

From the other side of the room, a voice was heard. It was Arcturus':

"Forget it. It's hopeless. All hopes are on one little marine, a Private at that! We're finished… it's over. The Zerg are too powerful. We will all die today, joining Raszagal and all others who died in this mission."

The carroty eyes glowed with optimism.

"Do not be pessimistic, Arcturus. We still have hope."

The Emperor was shocked at that statement.

"Hope? What hope is left? We have no news from the Khalis or Uraj group, our outpost is currently under attack, and that damned Zerg fleet is kicking our asses!"

Zeratul calmly replied:

"If we must die, let it be so. But we are still alive now. As long as we're alive, we can hope for victory."

The Uraj group had heightened its pace. It absolutely needed to get to the Overmind's control cradle. They had encountered certain resistance, a few mixed groups of Hydralisks and Zerglings. Although they were superior in number, the Uraj group suffered minor losses. Hertubiz, still wielding the Uraj, had not succeeded in touching a Zerg to power it up. He had already tried with a dead creature; it did nothing. It had been two hours, and T'rgashi's plateau came into view. There was a small path that leaded right to T'rgashi, but using his binoculars, Rodger noticed several Arachs heavily guarded it. These Zerg also guarded the plateau.

"What can we do?" asked Trikko.

Several plans were proposed. A Zealot proposed that Trikko could move up the trail, and the Arachs would not harm him because he was a Hydralisk, but another Zealot denied this plan, for two reasons. First, Trikko could not carry the crystal, and secondly, being a member of the Talos Brood, the brain of the Zerg would recognize that the Talos had been vanquished and would definitely have doubts.

An old marine suggested simply to charge, but Rodger disagreed, pointing out that they ignored how powerful these creatures truly were. Feodora thought maybe she could blind them with her optical flare, but Fenix said there were so many that she could not get them all with her strobe grenade. Finally, Trikko moved forward, and suggested:

"Trikko knows an alternate path up the plateau. It is a climb. The verticality of the slope is low; as such a few of us could sneak by on the plateau while the others made a distraction."

"But we don't know how many of those spider creatures are on top of the plateau!" argued a Zealot. "And what if the slope collapses?"

Rodger, being the leader, simply smacked his fist into his hand to get his squad's attention.

"Being the commander of this operation, I agree with Trikko's plan. It makes a lot of sense to me."

A loud groan was heard in the rank, but Rodger gave his team a frown to establish silence once again.

"I will sneak up using the scale, carrying the crystal. Who's with me?"

A few marines raised their hands, as well as a few Zealots. Then, a proud and rough voice was heard:

"Entaro Adun! I will accompany you as well!" roared Fenix.

The pilot smiled: he knew he could count on his old friend. Feodora also raised her hand, and winked at Rodger. He blushed and winked back, and then the two teams set a course for right underneath the plateau.

"The climb starts here." The Hydralisk indicated, happy that his master had chosen his idea.

"Good." Stated Rodger. "Let's get it on."

He led the way, invisible to his enemies and moving quickly up the high mount. After him Fenix climbed, then Feodora, the marines and Zealots, and finally Trikko. As for the rest of the group, they moved forward. A marine shot a bullet in the air, and soon, four Arachs came out to fight.

"Entaro Hertubiz!" exclaimed the Zealots as they rushed, blades deployed.

"Hush! They may be near!" said Rodger, having just set foot on the plateau and helping his men join him. "From now on, don't say a word. If you see one of those Arachs, -that's what they're called, I know by my own little way-, whistle. That'll be our signal to hit the dirt."

After having said that, Rod, Feodora and the sneaking portion of the Uraj operation all rolled in the mud. This would make them harder to see, and give them a better chance to avoid the murderous creatures. As such, the group started crawling towards the enormous brain entity, which was in sight, but not near. T'rgashi could be seen because of his enormous height and length. There were still hundreds of Arachs guarding him. Two of them approached the expedition.

A young Zealot whistled, and the entire assembly dropped to the ground, even the mighty Fenix. Fearing the great spiders might walk over them, the troops stayed perfectly still. One of an Arach's many legs nearly stepped on Rodger's face, but then the two creatures walked away. The alliance army decided it was safer to crawl from now on. It was slower, but the chances one of the Zerg arachnids to see them was much smaller as well. Fenix saw that the distraction that was happening at the bottom of T'rgashi's peak was definitely taking effect; many Arachs were charging down the natural path to aid the ones who were under attack.

At the bottom of the plateau, the alliance had vanquished the Arachs, having lost three Zealots, six marines and two medics. The medics in the Uraj group were trained most excellently and were much more useful then the ones of the Khalis. That was one of the reasons why the losses against four Arachs were so low. Celebrating their victory against the four eight-legged terrors, the alliance walked over the Arachs' corpses and pressed onward and upward on the plateau's trail.

Suddenly, a trample was heard. Over twenty Arachs had rushed to the aid of their fallen comrades. This time, the invaders knew they would not be victorious. Some marines had a reflex to desert the group, but the Zealots shouted:

"To the death! Entaro Tassadar!"

Energized by the courage of the Zealots, the men of the human armies of the Koprulu sector remained, guns loaded. The medics prepared themselves too, and quite obviously they would have to use their healing skills on themselves. The Arachs were the first to attack. Ten of them charged forward, viciously engaging the Zealots in hand-to-hand combat. Although the Protoss warriors could miraculously block the dangerous blades with their own, often the Arachs would launch their acid, referred to by the humans as a "cheap shot".

The marines fired their Gauss rifles tenaciously and even killed an Arach by overloading its brain with bullets. It fell off the trail, many meters down below to crash on jagged rocks. The grey monsters that had not yet attacked launched their acid from a distance. It landed on a group of medics, and before they could do anything to help each other, they succumbed into death, their skin bubbling and churning. A skilled Zealot cut off all of an Arach's legs, immobilizing it, then crawled up its abdomen and sank his blades into the beast's torso. Its upper body dropped heavily to the floor, as moments later, a vengeful Arach pierced the Zealot through the back. Blue fire, blood, and craters were found at the end of the conflict.

However, the Arachs had dominated over their foes, having lost a total of eight units. One of the enormous spider creatures was greatly wounded, and it wept in pain. Another Arach came up to it, and stabbed it with great power. The injured monster was now dead, lying perfectly still on the plateau's trail. The other spidery abominations looked at their dead brother and looked down in disappointment. Pressed against the Overmind's mount lay a medic, a male medic.

He was still alive, but his death was obviously inevitable. He had been impaled through the abdomen by one of the gargantuan swords of an Arach. One of the evil creatures approached him, and with foul breath spoke.

"Your squad was larger than this. Where are the remains of your squad?"

The man did not know how the spider could speak, but was terrified by its echoic, deep voice. Holding the medic in his sharp hands, the Arach persisted:

"Where???"

As a reply, the healer could only reply:

"Up yours, Zerg."

Those were the last words of his life; the Arach, using his sharp blades had cut the man in half and left him there, lifeless. T'rgashi's royal guard then returned to their previous positions, leaving the bloodied trail behind. They had claimed the victory. What more could T'rgashi demand from them?

Meanwhile, the other portion of the group was extremely close to T'rgashi.

"We'll be able to drop our crystal soon…" happily thought Rodger.

Unfortunately, a chain of Arachs had surrounded their master. There was not one square foot where Rod could possibly pass. The great beasts' defensive circle was enormous.

"Geez…" whispered Rodger.

That was the biggest mistake the olive-eyed marine had ever done in his life. Being so close to the Overmind, the psychic link between Rodger and T'rgashi was very strong. The eye of the Zerg quickly turned and generated a strange red light.

"Oh no!" cried Fenix.

At those words, the troops surrounding T'rgashi rushed towards the expedition. Quickly Fenix, the stalwart warrior, came up with a plan.

"Rodger! Crawl behind them! They will come in melee range, thus leaving at least one hundred meters between them and us! You'll have one hundred meters to run before you can drop the Uraj! Go! Go!"

The pilot, concerned about his friend, cried:

"What about you? I'm not leaving you here!"

The Dragoon aggressively approached the marine:

"Just do it! It might be my time to die, but not yours! It's time for the annihilation of the Zerg! Go!"

Rod, incredulous, simply nodded. He started to crawl, slowly but surely, behind the oncoming Arachs, holding the camouflaged Uraj close. He was followed by two contradictory forms: Feodora and Trikko. To Rod's horror, the gaze of T'rgashi was following him, and most of the Arachs had targeted him.

The blonde medic knew it was now or never. The optical flare! Since T'rgashi had nothing but a great eye, why not disable it?

"Cover your eyes!" she yelled.

Rodger and Trikko obeyed, doubtful but trusting. The medic, aiming carefully, lobbed a green strobe grenade right at the brain's fearsome yellow eye. It exploded into a brilliant flash of white light that was seen several hundreds of square meters. Rodger could hear the Overmind, roaring in pain, and the noise was terrorizing him. Trikko gently bashed him with his head, encouraging him to move again. Forgetting all forms of cover, Rod ran forward between blinded Arachs.

A large number, approximately sixty, was still charging towards Fenix and the other members of the Uraj group, untouched by the optical flare. T'rgashi's defenders and T'rgashi himself, however, were forever blinded. Hertubiz, being a strong sprinter, never slowed his pace. His girlfriend and his pet followed him.

Quickly, he dropped the Uraj right next to the Overmind. He turned around, giving Fenix the thumbs up, but then his face froze. His squad had been decimated. Only Fenix had survived. The enormous spiders were attacking Fenix. Only about nine Arachs had been defeated, as such the Dragoon was alone against fifty-one Arachs. Every participant in the fray had more than two legs; as such it was quite the spectacle to see so many limbs move. Rod looked in horror as his old friend was being struck at several different places by the grey creatures.

Knowing no better, his heart racing, Rod rushed towards the fray, yelling

"FEEEEEEEEENIXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!"

Feodora tried to stop him, but could not. Soon, two non-blind guards stopped him, and snickered evilly. Rodger shot them with his Photon Disrupter, but their scales were tough. Soon, their acid hit Rod. He dropped to the floor, his arm burning. He looked at it, and noticed it was red, puffy, and charred at certain points.

"Rod! No! Rodger!" cried Feodora from afar.

She tried to run to save him, but was cut off by three Zerglings, also snickering. Having no weapon, she was hammered down and pummelled.

"Foolish Rodger Hertubiz." the blind Overmind laughed. "You did not have the wisdom to touch one of my minions with your weapon before facing me. You fool. Now you will die, as will your entire race. Your failure here was the failure of all mankind."

Looking around, Rodger noticed that more Arachs had surrounded him, intercepting any kind of retreat. Looking at the red sky of Char, Rodger thought it had some resemblance to his dreams. Fireballs still flew, drawing smoke like a child draws with pencils. He heard Zerglings hitting his girlfriend, and he sobbed at the sound. He also heard his greatest friend, Fenix, fighting courageously against the Arachs. The Dragoon had blown one open with its globes, but was barely capable of moving, cut at many spots by the sharp spikes of the spidery monsters. They were swarming on to him, Rodger knew. He had failed. He felt warm tears rolling down his face.

How could he have forgotten to touch one of T'rgashi's followers with the Uraj? If he still held it within his arms, he would have killed the Arachs long ago, but he had dropped it right next to T'rgashi, even closer than the Khalis was to him. As the Arachs started to close the circle around Hertubiz, he knew he was doomed.

But T'rgashi had forgotten one very important member of the Uraj expedition: the renegade Zerg, Trikko. He was still standing perfectly still, right next to the crystal. He was desperate; his master, whom he loved, was certainly going to die. Feodora, another of his greatest friends, was in peril. And Fenix, mighty brave Fenix, the one Protoss who understood him, was surely already dead. The Hydralisk looked at the purple crystal with agony.

While he was with Rodger, Trikko had lived the most incredible time of his life. He did not have to obey cruel orders, and was loved by his human master. He had seen great things, including love.

"Love…" Trikko repeated the word to himself many times.

He looked at Feodora again, and then his saviour, Rodger Hertubiz. He, at the same time, looked at his pet. Trikko smiled as a tear silently made its way down his face. He knew what he was destined to do. He did not want to do it, now that he had found happiness, but it had to be done. He had to do it, to save Fenix, to save Feodora, to save Rodger.

To save love. 

The olive-eyed marine thought he was hallucinating, but he heard Trikko's voice in his head, just like T'rgashi would speak to him.

"Trikko… Trikko loves you. Never forget about Trikko. Trikko doesn't know where he's going, but one thing is for sure. Trikko loves you. Trikko loves Feodora too. Farewell, my master… my friend…"

At those final words, the great Hydralisk threw himself against the Uraj crystal. Rod screamed. 

The peaceful smile of the Hydralisk slowly vanished, vaporized into tiny blue fragments. The pink stripes around his jovial face were no more. Trikko was gone, transformed into tiny blue pieces that tagged Arachs around T'rgashi and made them disappear too. Eventually, the chain reaction caused one blue fragment to touch the Khalis, about four hundred meters on the other side of the Overmind.

The Khalis glowed violently with blue light, and fired a thick purple brightness at the Uraj. The link between the twin crystals soon married their colours, and the beam was now pink. The prism effect bounced off the Uraj to the Khalis, and the light blue crystal launched the laser beam at T'rgashi, the Overmind. The pink light surrounded the great brain entity, as an enormous cry was heard.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! IT CAN'T BE!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!"

The pink glow intensified around T'rgashi. The Overmind kept yelling loudly, and finally, T'rgashi was destroyed. Tiny pink fragments filled the sky and descended everywhere on Zerus. No Zerg creature was killed by these pieces, but stunned the Zerg from where they stood. As such, the Arachs were paralysed, their spikes only two centimetres from Rodger's throat. The Zerglings stopped pounding Feodora. In the outpost, the Zerg had breeched the walls and had laid waste to the base, yet some defenders remained. Bur'klok was one of them.

"By the Khala… We've succeeded!" He cried.

The remaining warriors danced of joy and held each other close. There were hardly three hundred survivors in total, but how they rejoiced! In outer space, the swarm of Mutalisks and Scourges were also disabled. It happened right at the right time, for only the badly damaged _Eiffel_ and the Ganthritor were still remaining. Zeratul bowed his head reverently, witnessing the incredibly large pink explosion on Zerus that was visible even from the Ganthritor's control room.

Back on the Overmind's plateau, Rodger had freed himself from the Arach's encirclement. He saw Feodora get back up, scratched thoroughly in the face, but her encounter suit had taken the rest of the damage. Rodger, ignoring his pain, ran quickly to the remains of T'rgashi. He was breathless. He got on his knees, blinded by his tears and picked up a strange object in the soil: A large wooden "T". The only souvenir Rod had of Trikko.

Not able to contain himself anymore, the marine held the letter to his chest, dropped on his stomach and cried thoroughly, repeating:

"Trikko, my brave Trikko..."

His pet, his Hydralisk, the one Zerg that he ever learned to love, was gone forever. Pushing his head against his knee, Rodger sobbed some more, welcoming Feodora's gentle hand on his shoulder. Still not believing what had happened, the couple simply stared into the heated red sky. The battle of the fiery world was at long last over, but so was Trikko's life.


	26. Cyclone of flames

Chapter twenty-six: Cyclone of flames 

The lovers sat quietly, allowing their anguish to get the best of them. Suddenly, Rodger stood, remembering something.

Fenix. The metal spider had engaged the Arachs, but Rod was not sure of his current state. Getting up, Rod told Feodora:

"I have to go check on Fenix! I completely forgot about him!"

The soldier ran as fast as he could; while the medic simply looked at him go. Pushing the nine feet creatures aside to find his friend, Rodger gasped loudly as he searched through the dozens of stunned Arachs. Eventually, he found him. The mechanical spider was down, its stomach, its four legs completely stiff. Rod approached Fenix, breathless, and slowly pronounced:

"Oh no…"

He got on his knees and shook the Dragoon exoskeleton several times, calling the Protoss by name. He had no answer. He tried to force the big spider back on its feet by lifting it up, but he was too weak. Besides, the Dragoon was too heavy to be lifted. Knowing what had happened; Rodger fell on the side and just looked at Fenix.

"You weren't supposed to die on these fields, old friend…It's all my fault… if I had touched an Arach before poor Trikko…" he took a break to release a soft sob. "…you would still be alive, and so would Trikko. I'm really sorry, Fenix…"

At those words, Rodger removed his helmet, exposing his head to the unfriendly atmosphere of Char. He threw it near Fenix and said:

"You've met your Khala, old buddy… Farewell."

Rodger turned to leave, even more sorrowed than before. Before he could take too many steps, he heard a mechanical noise behind him. Full of hope, the marine turned around. The Dragoon was twitching! It was slowly getting back in the standing position, stumbling on its damaged legs clumsily.

"Fenix!" exclaimed the messy-haired man, with tears of joy in his eyes.

The great spider dropped down to its stomach again, and Rod heard the rough voice he was so accustomed to, say:

"Rodger… Oh…is it over?"

Hertubiz, a big smile on his face and with watery eyes, did not notice his sprinting girlfriend. He simply replied:

"Yes, my friend…Yes, it's over…T'rgashi is dead…"

Letting out a sigh of relief, Fenix simply said:

"Well good… It really is over then. I'm glad we succeeded."

Not showing effort to get back up, Fenix simply stayed on the ground while Rodger approached him and whispered:

"You were right, Fenix… It was our personal friendship that made all the difference here… We did defeat the Overmind together…"

The Dragoon laughed quietly, and somehow hauled itself back on its four legs.

"You're alright! Fenix! Wow! I really thought you were done, but am I glad to see I've been proven wrong!"

Fenix, with the ancient vigour in his voice replenishing, shouted:

"Me? Against Zerg! Never! Ha, ha,ha!"

The young man, forgetting all his troubles, ran to the great Protoss warrior and hugged him. The two were laughing hysterically, even if there was nothing funny to laugh about. The embrace was enlarged when Feodora joined in. The three stood amongst hundreds of immobile Arachs, victorious. Although they still mourned the brave Hydralisk who gave his life to assure victory, the friends rejoiced, for the plague of the Universe had finally been eliminated.

The next three months were incredibly boring for Rodger and the rest of the alliance. Feeling safe, the damaged ships had landed on Char to save fuel. Afterwards, SCVs fixed the ships, as well as Fenix and the other Dragoons. The outpost had been rebuilt, even if its place was unnecessary. Now, every single individual was busy collecting Zerg corpses. They were stashing all the corpses inside small trucks who brought the dead bodies on top of the plateau where the glorious Overmind once stood. All who could still move were executing the chore, taking incredibly long due to the enormous Zerg population on Zerus.

Helping Fenix load a clueless Arach on a truck, Rod smiled as a flashback came to his memory.

"Rodger! Rodger!"

He turned around. Not far away from him were Kurt, Josart, and a female marine. Although Josart was using the woman as a crutch, the olive-eyed man was so happy to see his oldest friends alive. Kurt jumped on Rodger, Josart not far behind. The friends tackled each other playfully, laughing and retracing their battles all at once. Feodora and Jasmina, looking at the men, simply laughed, accompanied by the wounded Fenix. Kurt, holding the dark green-eyed man, started to chant:

"Weeeee areee the championssssssss, my frieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeendddssss…. We'll keep on fightinnnnnnnnnngggg till the ennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd!"

Soon, Rodger and Josart joined in the hymn, and even the mighty Fenix did, after a while. The song resounded for many hours many times in T'rgashi's plateau.

"Rodger? Rodger! I'm not Adun, you know! I can't haul this Arach on my own!"

The marine snapped out of his dream and helped his friend carry the big beast. A few minutes later, Fenix and Rodger went for a truck ride up the trail to drop the Arach off on the plateau. Bur'klok was driving the truck. Rodger was sitting next to him, and he said:

"Bur'klok, I'm glad you survived."

The Zealot slammed his foot on the brake, not believing what he had just heard.

"What did you call me?" he asked.

"Bur'klok… did I say that wrong again?"

The young Judicator laughed and playfully tapped Rodger's back.

"No, Rodger. For the first time, you got it right." Adding a wink, the blue-eyed warrior stated: "And because we both survived, it won't be the last."

Rodger smiled happily. He knew Bur'klok and himself would be friends forever. Once they arrived at the summit of the mount, they saw Kurt, Feodora, Jasmina and several other soldiers who were pilling up the corpses or unloading their "cargo". As Fenix and Rodger placed the Arach with the other inert creatures, the marine sighed. He was thinking of Trikko, his brave pet. He really missed the pink stripes around his eyes, his happy grin, and his calming slimy voice. Most especially, he wished he could have the Hydralisk's company. Taking out the wooden "T" out of his pocket, Rod viewed it for a long time.

Suddenly, he noticed something strange. His fingers… they were normal again! Without hesitation, the marine ran towards Kurt and shouted:

"Hey!"

The handsome, tall man looked at Rod and said:

"Hey, what's up?"

Anxious, the pilot asked:

"Do I seem shorter today?"

The taller marine leapt from his perch, on top of a few dozen Zerglings, and placed himself shoulder-to-shoulder next to his friend:

"Yeah, you are pretty short today… That's odd…"

Before Kurt could finish his sentence, the other man was simply dancing around in joy. His friend could not understand why, for he was never aware that the Zerg had ever assimilated him. But now, the small larva that nested within Rodger was dead with the Overmind. He no longer suffered from assimilation. Meanwhile, a few meters away, Josart stood alone. Rodger and Fenix hadn't noticed him because he was on the other side of the corpse pile. He had just thrown a Hydralisk on top of another when he noticed a strange, large round object. He carefully picked it up.

It was shaped like a football; only it was much larger, being about three feet high. It was black, but there was a watery symbol at the bottom of it that was blood red. What amazed Jo the most though was that every thirty seconds or so, it would light up in pretty neon green.

"Wow, too cool!" he exclaimed.

Picking up the thing, Jo ran to see Rodger. The first question that he asked was:

"What's that thing, Josart?"

The green-haired man just looked, smiled and answered:

"Um, just a battle trophy I'm taking home. It's so awesome!"

At those words, the strange object glowed again with its neon light. The Morian pilot looked at it with great suspicion, but when it glowed like that, he was too amazed to argue. He decided there was nothing wrong with letting his friend bringing home a trophy of the battle. After all, he himself was going to keep Trikko's collar forever.

A few hours later, the alliance was putting the finishing touches on the pile of corpses. The planet Zerus was licked clean of Zerg. Some Zealots had even dug in the ground to get the little larvae out. Rodger, holding a Zergling, felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun, only to face his girlfriend. She looked thoughtful about something.

"Hey, Fee-Fee. What's up?"

The medic weakly smiled and looked away. Truly, there was something wrong and Rodger wanted to know what it was.

"What's wrong? I'm not assimilated anymore; I told you that about an hour ago. What's on your mind, love?"

Feodora looked deep into the dark eyes and whispered with a teasing smile: "Rod… remember that night on the Ganthritor right before the battle? That night, we… well, you know… had sex?"

The olive-eyed man laughed loudly, holding his abdomen with both hands, nodded his head. The charming blonde just told said something else that the man would have never expected.

"Rod… I was sick a few days ago… and I've missed more than two months' worth of periods… I'm… I'm pregnant, Rodger."

The smile on the marine's face disappeared instantly. He dropped the hell dog and just stared embarrassingly.

"Oh…God… Feodora, I'm sorry…"

The medic chuckled, held the worried male's hands and simply said:

"Oh don't be sorry, Rod! I'm glad I'm carrying your child. You're gonna be a daddy, Roddy."

The marine, knowing that he did not have to worry anymore, grew relieved. A father!

"Wow…" He thought.

It felt rather strange, but looking in Feodora's emerald eyes, bright smile and happy face, he knew that she really was glad. Plus, he knew, since that night on the Ganthritor, that he and Feodora were meant to be together forever. All he could think about when he looked at the young woman was how much he loved her, how much he loved being with her. And now, there would be a child to tighten the bond between them.

"Feo, this child is going to be perfect. He or she's gonna have your eyes…"

The healing woman cut him off, arguing.

"No! He or she's going to have yours! You have the best eyes ever!"

Rodger smirked and continued:

"Alright, FINE! But our kid's definitely going to have your hair!"

Feodora started to disagree again, because she liked her lover's unruly brown hair, but Rodger stopped her in her tracks by planting his lips on hers. When the kiss ended, Feodora whispered:

"Okay… maybe she'll have my hair after all…"

Thereafter, Fenix came by, trotting happily, and said:

"Rodger, Feodora. We must leave now. The dead mountain of the Zerg is complete. All forces are summoned to the base of the plateau. Let's move."

Asking no questions, the couple, followed by the entire gathering on T'rgashi's mount, walked down the trail. Once they arrived at the bottom, Rodger and his friends had a surprise waiting for them. Rod was amazed to see several wraith pilots right next to their respective fighter jet. A large smile appeared on the Morian pilot as he saw his own jet, Catrine. She had survived the attack on the outpost. Arcturus Mengsk, who had came from the earthbound Ganthritor, asked Rodger to step right next to his ship. Unable to refuse, Rodger stood next to the wraith and waited. The Emperor then started to give a speech to the forces near the plateau.

"My fellow humans and Protoss, it is with the deepest of joy that I see the operation was a success. I, myself, believe it or not, often doubted our performances in this attack. I can now see that I was wrong, and that I was pessimistic. Although our losses were great…"

The great leader sighed and continued:

"Losses that will take a very long time, materially and biologically, a long time to undo. Nevertheless, we are victorious. Due to your courage, your efficiency and your quickness to obey orders, you have triumphed over the common foe. I have no timidity when I say this. The old Emperor that stands before you is proud. Truly, I am. You have avenged the death of my dear Raszagal, and our enemies lie beaten and buried beneath the ashes of Char. At long last, we can return to our homes! Aiur, the homeworld of the mighty First-Born, will be cleansed of immobilized Zerg, and as for us, we will finally see our industrial cities once again! For too long this conflict has stretched itself! Let's finish it!"

The other pilots roared in glee, but Rodger was not sure why. In the need for explanation, he approached a more experienced pilot, perhaps thirty four years old, and asked:

"What are we doing?"

The older man smirked, took a puff of his cigarette, and replied:

"See that big barrel tied to your wraith?"

Rod looked carefully and noticed indeed there was a large yellow barrel tied to the belly of his ship. After further inspection, he noticed that all the other wraiths had one tied, too.

"It's gasoline. We're going to dump it all on the pile of carcasses."

Flabbergasted, the younger pilot understood what Mengsk had intended. He was going to burn the Zerg on Char. He slowly boarded Catrine and took off, following the older pilot and his comrades. From high above the red sky, Rodger could see Feodora waving at him, as well as Kurt and Josart who were brandishing their arms in the sky. Then he focused on the big pile of static creatures. It covered the entire summit of the mount, and he saw every single known breed of Zerg at least once. He saw pacified Ultralisks, staring stupidly at nothingness. Hydralisks, Defilers, Mutalisks, Overlords, Arachs, Scourges and Splitters also were seen, but the hundreds of millions of Zerglings covered the greatest surface of the plateau.

The fighter jets flew around the enormous pile of enemies, and after a few minutes, the wraiths dropped the liquid gas upon the monsters. Ten minutes later, they safely landed where they had taken off. As soon as Rodger was out of his fighter's cockpit, he heard Arcturus say:

"I now give the honour to a veteran warrior, Fenix, to ignite the flame."

The other warriors of the alliance applauded the Dragoon heavily. Fenix took three steps, grounded himself in the ground, and launched one of his blue projectiles in a high ark. It flew elegantly for a few seconds, and then hit an Arach. The great grey spider was ignited, and soon, the fire spread wickedly through the mountain of inert creatures. That was undoubtedly the largest column of fire Rodger, Kurt, Fenix, Feodora, or anyone, had ever seen. The cyclone of fire charred the Zerg as the entire alliance rejoiced.

"Burn… BURN!!" laughed Josart, accompanied by Jasmina, who was cheering wildly.

As the foul stench of burnt flesh spread through the air, the marine and the medic exchanged a kiss, very similar to the one they had felt on Moria. It lasted several minutes, and the pair paid no attention to the cyclone of fire that kept getting bigger behind them. Josart and Kurt, only a few feet away, looked in the crimson sky with smiles on their faces. Josart, using a broken branch as a cane, emotionally said:

"We're going home, Kurt…"


	27. Five years later

Chapter twenty-seven: Five years later 

It was a beautiful day in the north of Moria. It was relatively humid that day, having rained just the day before. Everything in the rural city of Phalance Visha, name that meant, "Gate to Friendship" in Protoss, was quiet. The city was called like this because inside that city was a fully functional warp gate that linked Moria and Aiur, the Protoss homeworld. Highly often, Protoss would visit their friends on their homeworlds. Some First-Born had even established themselves forever on one of the human worlds and were greatly appreciated in the sector. Umoja, Korhal, and Tarsonis were also linked to Aiur by one of the mystical gateways.

In a friendly white and blue house, a young man relaxed in a couch. His eyes were shut, and he was nearly sleeping. His wife, cuddled with him, was also nearly asleep. Suddenly, a little four-year-old girl entered the room. She was yelling on the top of her lungs:

"Trikko! Trikko! Trikko!"

The olive eyes of the man opened, and he started to chuckle softly. Quickly, he seized his child, put her playfully on his knees and made a face that somewhat resembled a Hydralisk's, an evil animal that had been exterminated from the universe five years ago. The dark-eyed man, no other than Rodger Hertubiz himself, growled and repeated:

"Yeah, Trikko, Trikko, Trikko! Yeah, Trikko, Trikko, Trikko!"

He followed his giggling girl down the street, while his wife, who was no other than Feodora, was trailing him. When they got to the park, the infant escaped her father's hold and went on to play with other kids from the block. They all played in the sandbox while the married couple, Rod and Feodora, joyfully watched. The vacant marine, with a large smile on his face, murmured:

"I just love our little Sarah-Kerrigan. She's so sweet and funny. She definitely got her smile from you."

The blonde healer smiled back and nodded. The four year old definitely brought joy and pride to the pair. They were at "Trikko's place", a large, recreational park, with several gigantic trees, gentle grass and many swing sets for the young ones. The most particular aspect of this park was that at each of the corners of it, massive grey statues representing a Hydralisk stood. Each statue was in fact a different pose of one of the greatest galactic heroes of all time: the renegade Zerg, Trikko.

There was an inscription underneath each statue. On every statue was written the same sentence:

"This is Trikko, the one Hydralisk who should ever be remembered. This Zerg has singularly defeated the nefarious Overmind."

Staring into the stony eyes of one of the immense entities, Rod started to regret his pet once again. He did not have too long to mourn his long lost friend, for many armed soldiers entered the park. Rodger thought perhaps his vacation was over, and that some violent conflict had erupted elsewhere in the galaxy, but he was wrong. It was only Emperor Mengsk's escort. Standing up to greet the Emperor, Feodora and her husband militarily saluted the important man. Arcturus replied to the salute, and said with a grin:

"Captain Hertubiz, First Sergeant Feodora, it's good to see you again."

The couple had achieved their new ranks for their bravery and skill in the many operations that had taken place in the past. Rodger had replaced his fallen leader, Captain Ray, for his enormous contribution to the success of the operation. Feodora, for having saved the lives of dozens of soldiers and for blinding the reprehensible eye of T'rgashi, was also promoted.

"Is that your little girl over there?" said Arcturus, pointing at Sarah-Kerrigan in the sandbox.

"Yep, that's my little Sarah." Answered a proud man. "Sarah-Kerrigan, sweetie! Come here, come and meet the nice man."

The little girl flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and skipped to her mother. She held on to her mothers' thighs and looked at the bearded politician. Mengsk, touched by how cute the kid was, kneeled to be on Sarah-Kerrigan's level.

"Hello there. I'm the Emperor. My name is Arcturus."

Sarah, laughing heartily, exclaimed:

"You have a beardie! My daddy doesn't have a beardie!"

The usually cold Emperor erupted into laughter. Rodger did too, as he sent his girl off to play again.

"She's quite the character… Do you think she could join my ghost training program?"

Rod and Feodora looked at each other in confusion, then the marine asked:

"What is a ghost program?"

Arcturus went on to explain it.

"As you know, sometimes we have small conflicts between worlds. As such, I've started to recruit stealthy men and women as assassins, known as "ghosts". They hold personal cloaking devices similar to a wraith, allowing them to be as invisible as the Dark Templar themselves for a period of time. Using my special watch here," said Arcturus while showing his wrist band, "I took a sample of Sarah's psychic emanations. They appear to be at a maximal point, one of the highest I've seen so far. The higher these emanations are, the more potent the ghost can become."

Rodger shook his head in disapproval.

"She's too young. Way too young. Besides, I'm not sure I want to see my child serving in military duty."

The Emperor understood, and bid farewell to the married couple as well as the little girl who was still playing gaily.

"I like the beardie man." Said Kerrigan to her friends.

On his way out of the park, Arcturus Mengsk looked back at Kerrigan, then his psychic emanation counter on his wrist. Incredulous and shaking his head, Arcturus departed from the city and returned to Korhal. In the meantime, Sarah had returned to her game with a seven-year-old boy. He was quite skinny and his piercing brown eyes that showed the greatest amount of dynamism. The brown eyes looked deep into Kerrigan's dark green eyes, eyes she had definitely obtained from her father's genes.

"I'm James." The young boy introduced himself.

Sarah-Kerrigan Hertubiz looked back at the boy and answered.

"Hi James! I'm Sarah-Kerrigan!"

As she was building a sand castle with the help of her new friend, James said:

"My friends call me Jim, or even Jimmy. My dad, Jonathan Raynor, works with your dad Rodger."

With her sweet little voice, Rodger's child proposed:

"So if you ever come over, I have to present you as Jim Raynor?"

The older boy smiled a smile that still lacked teeth, and answered:

"That'll do."

Kerrigan's parents stayed happily on the bench where they were, watching her play with her friends, talking to each other or simply kissing. They did those three simple actions for about half an hour, until three well-known characters entered Trikko's place. Rodger stood up, with a wide smile on his face. It was Kurt, Josart, and Jasmina.

"Roddy-boy! What's up ma man?"

Hertubiz just smiled and replied that he was watching over his little girl. Feodora replied the same. This time around, Josart did not run away like a coward. If he would have, he would have brought Jasmina with him; they were holding hands. They had been a couple for over two years.

"Hey Kurt, why don't you have a girlfriend?" asked a sarcastic Rodger.

The giant shrugged his shoulders, looked down and kicked some sand, answering:

"Bah! I don't really need or want one. Besides, I'm only twenty-six. There's plenty of time left."

The dark green eyes then turned to Jasmina.

"So, you still going out with this moron?" he said, indicating Josart.

The grey eyes lit up with joy as she held the short man close.

"Yep! He's my moron!"

The group laughed jovially. Peace felt almost too good to be true. After a short conversation, Feodora asked:

"Hey, why don't we all go to a café?"

Jasmina, Josart and Kurt welcomed the idea, but Rodger was unsure if they should bring Sarah with them. His wife decided he was probably right, but then Rodger thought of a solution quickly:

"Tell you what… why don't you four go on ahead, and I'll keep an eye on Sarah-Kerrigan."

"Hey, sounds good! Thanks Roddy-boy!" exclaimed Jo.

Feodora smiled uneasily, not wanting to leave her husband alone, but the man in question insisted. So the medic left with the three marines and were soon out of sight. Rod smirked and sat back on his bench comfortably, watching his little girl play with James Raynor. At this point, her father was still unaware of whom he was, but seeing how amicably the kids played together, he thought it was just fine. Another half hour passed, and the twenty-six year old marine decided it was time to go.

"Kerrigan! Sarah-Kerrigan! It's time to go home!" he called.

The child looked at her father with her enormously childish eyes, and then looked at Jim with a certain regret.

"I have to go, Jimmy. I'll be back tomorrow!"

James nodded, and he went on home too, his own separate way. As they waved goodbye to each other, it was clear that a solid and undeniable friendship would be established between the young boy and Rodger's daughter. Holding her dad's hand, young Kerrigan went home happily.

Once they arrived at the small and cozy white and blue house, Kerrigan leapt on the floor to play with some of her toys, while the parent sat in a chair to read the paper. Nothing too new or interesting seemed to happen, but when he got to the third page, he saw an ad for Arcturus' ghost program. He read it carefully, looking at the illustrations at the few assassins that had already been trained. The Special Forces had never yet been deployed, but their success in annihilating rebellious or dangerous country-leaders seemed unquestionable. Rodger Hertubiz looked at his beloved daughter once again, looking at her play with a doll Rodger had made for her, a doll that also represented Trikko. How could she be an assassin? Rod thought that perhaps Arcturus had lost his mind for a second.

"Nah…" he thought. "My Kerrigan will never be part of that devilry. War is hell, after all."

He read on until he heard a knock on his door.

"I'll get it!!" cried an excited Kerrigan.

She opened the door, but as soon as it was fully opened, the little girl yelped, ran back in the house and jumped in her father's arms. Rodger, worried, looked up to see who was at the door, and a large grin appeared on his face. In the doorway stood a big metallic spider, along with a Zealot, and a Dark Templar. Sarah-Kerrigan had never seen the First-Born before, while Rodger was being emotional, for his Protoss friends had not have visited him for a long time.

"Sarah, why don't you go play in the living room? I'll be right here if you ever need me."

Not taking her eyes off the terrifying Dragoon, the little girl slowly got out of the room on Rodger's wise suggestion. When she was gone, her dad walked up towards the visitors who did not say a thing yet.

"Well, well, well… The First-Born are back. Come on in!"

Laughing quietly, Fenix, Bur'klok and Zeratul got inside.

"It's good to see you again, Rodger." Said Fenix.

The man nodded, but then noticed something strange. Zeratul was wearing a cerulean coat instead of his usual red cape. Struck by contentment for his friend, Rod walked up to the Dark Templar and said:

"Well, look at you! Patriarch of the Dark Templar! Congratulations! I knew you could do it."

The carroty eyes showed appreciation as the new leader's reply came:

"Thank you very much, old friend. I, for my part, must congratulate you for your child."

Bur'klok interrupted the Patriarch with a quick laugh, remembering Sarah's initial reaction to their appearance. Again, it was Rodger's turn to speak. There was a question he was dying to ask.

"So how's Aiur? It's been ravaged by the Zerg, but now, how does it fare?"

Fenix, a certain grief in his voice, answered:

"We reoccupied our homeworld after the fall of T'rgashi. We had to destroy the inert Zerg presence there, as well. Once that was done, we started to try to fix what the dreaded creatures had done to Aiur, but it will take a lot of time to bring life back to our planet. I'm afraid I won't be there to see the day Aiur regains its full beauty."

Rod showed sympathy for the Dragoon, as well as Zeratul, for most likely the young Zealot would be the only one who would see the reconstructed Aiur. The four friends went on talking about several things for a few hours. Hertubiz got many interesting news; the details of Zeratul's ascension to the post of Patriarch, Bur'klok's never ending success as a Judicator, and Fenix's now relatively quiet and uneventful life. The Protoss learned from their human friend as well. They heard about Sarah-Kerrigan's birth, his promotion to Captain, the many patrols he still executed on board of his wraith.

A curious Judicator asked the fellow if he had repeated the events he had executed the night of the Missar'ka Adun. Rodger chuckled and of course agreed, but added that Feodora and he were not aiming to get another child, for the time being. Fenix asked about Feodora, and soon, the four comrades were discussing Rodger's wedding. Of course, the Protoss had been invited. It was a very large celebration, and it happened very shortly after Kerrigan's birth. Rod soon demanded:

"Do you guys wanna stay here for the night? I'd be happy to have you under my roof."

Fenix and Bur'klok seemed interested, but Zeratul whispered something in Protoss that Rodger only partially understood.

"Oh… right…" said Bur'klok, slightly disappointed. "We also came down on Moria to speak with Emperor Mengsk. It has been a while we haven't seen him."

The green-eyed marine understood, and soon, his friends bid farewell, telling him they'd be back before they departed from Moria again. As they disappeared from the man's line of sight, he smiled and closed the door. As he sat down again, the door stormed open and Josart, Jasmina and Feodora appeared. Startled by their sudden appearance, the messy-haired man jumped up and unwillingly welcomed the short man's laughter.

"Yooooo Roddy-boy, wazzup??" exclaimed Jo.

Looking around and not answering Josart's question, Rodger simply asked:

"Hey, where's Kurt?"

Jasmina's grey eyes lit up, and she replied to the pilot's doubt:

"After we dinned, Kurt left us. He had to oversee a Siege tank factory this afternoon. I think he really enjoyed killing Daggoth with the Arclite shock cannon!"

Rod laughed and agreed: Kurt Belek had continued to show interest for armoured machines, more specifically tanks, and soon he became a gunner. Occasionally, the tall, black-haired marine had to drive as well. Either way, Kurt was now a renowned mechanic and a talented tank gunner. Understanding Kurt's duty, Rod no longer questioned his absence.

The two couples stayed at Rodger's place for a while, and paid a lot of attention to the young girl who came out of her hiding place, the Protoss being gone. Two hours passed joyfully, and then Rodger asked his friends if they were interested in a double date at a romantic restaurant.

"Let's do it! Rod, I love it when you surprise me like that…" said Feodora immediately.

Josart and Jasmina, however, seemed a bit less willing. They had gone to a café for lunch and now, were quite discouraged by the idea of going to a restaurant a second time.

"But Rodger, we'll probably end up staying there for a while. You know how the wine can be… what of Kerrigan?"

Rodger opened his mouth like a dumb trout out of water and thought about it, but his short friend quickly yelled:

"Hey, Jasmina and I could watch Sarah! She could come at my pad and you's could come and pick her up tomorrow mornin'!"

Jasmina agreed jovially, and, trusting Josart and his girlfriend, Rodger decided it was a good idea. As the married couple left to go eat, young Kerrigan followed Jo and Jasmina.

A bit later, the two marines were at Josart's apartment. They had sent out Sarah to bed in Josart's room, where his war trophy, the strange rock stood, for it was the early evening,and before he set out for the restaurant with his wife, Rodger insisted that she could get a fair share of slumber. Josart and Jasmina were cuddled on a couch, place where they had decided to sleep, for Kerrigan was sleeping in Josart's bed.

"You know… five years ago was really the event. The Ganthritor's crusade, the raid on Braxis, the assault on Moria…" Jo stated. "It's been really great. I am glad there is peace, now, though. It gave us time to establish our love."

Jasmina giggled her hitch-pitched laugh and snuggled against her man. She remembered clearly how everything had happened. She and Josart had become great friends after Daggoth's assassination, and became closer with each passing day. One night, the female marine had unexpectedly kissed the green-haired man, and later on the two had gone out all over the city together. The couple that Josart and Jasmina formed was a happy one. It seemed like they would follow Rodger and Feodora's example and be wed in a matter of a few years.

"Yup I'm sure glad there is peace too. But not tonight."

Josart, confused, looked at his girlfriend straight in the eyes and asked:

"What do you mean, not tonight?"

Jasmina got off Josart, backed up a few steps and smiled naughtily. Jo's auburn eyes widened when Jasmina disrobed before him. Her smooth, silky form fully exposed, she leapt on the short man and soon was aroused by the touch, gestures and words she received from Josart.

There was indeed no peace that night. Only noise. A lot and a lot of noise.


	28. Epilogue

Epilogue

I don't know what happened that night. I wasn't home, that much I knew. My daddy and mommy were out to dinner and they had taken me to my daddy's friend, Josart's, house. For a while I couldn't sleep because I was hearing a bunch of cringes and Josart's friend yelling out his name. When that was over, though, I awakened again. I heard a voice inside my head that just howled:

"Awaken my child."

I looked around the room, but it wasn't my daddy's voice. It was hollow, echoed, and creepy. I started to cry for I was very afraid. Again, I heard:

"Awaken my child, and embrace this day that is your birthright."

It was only then that I noticed the lights flashing at my right. I looked over there and saw a strange rock; apparently it was Josart's. It flashed in neon green every time I heard a word in my head. Jumping off the bed, I landed on the floor with my rabbit-slippers and looked at the rock. I was almost deafened, for it shouted:

"Come to me! Kerrigan!"

Wiping off tears from my eyes, I hesitatingly spoke to the stone.

"Who are you?"

The rock erupted in laughter, as I was terrorized, too scared to call Josart. I froze where I stood, my knees shaking wildly. The voice then came to me once again.

"I… am Ozzerath. Son of the Overmind."

I really didn't understand what he was trying to tell me. The only thing I was sure of is that I had to listen to this bizarre rock. My mind was fixed on it. I tried to look away, but I was unable to move. I then heard the boulder speak again:

"My father, T'rgashi, was eliminated on the fields of Char. Luckily, he hatched me, Ozzerath before the Xel'Naga crystals annihilated him. Being an Overmind myself, I did not need his pathetic line of control. I was still very alive, in egg state, and that fool Josart stupidly took me under his wing, not knowing he had brought in his own home the greatest nightmare."

Each sentence made less sense then the previous.

"Because of Josart's fascination for me, the Zerg will soon return. I will rebuild what your father and his comrades futilely attempted to destroy."

He then shouted something that made me fall on my knees.

"And you, SARAH-KERRIGAN HERTUBIZ!! YOU WILL BOW TO ME!! YOU ARE MY MINION!!"

Horror struck, I continued to wail and cry, calling my daddy. After I calmed down, I shyly asked him a question, even if I was sure I wouldn't understand his explanation.

"Why can I hear you speak? Why hasn't Josart come to help me yet?"

"Simply because he is not a Zerg like you are. You see, young Kerrigan, your father and mother were not wise enough to wait until the Zerg larva within Rodger was dead. They engaged in sexual relations while there was still Zerg blood flowing in Rodger Hertubiz's veins. The blood survived the Overmind's destruction; one cannot change his genes. And Hertubiz was still carrying Zerg genes when he spawned you. Unlike any creature yet, you have the unique ability of being a Zerg without ever having been assimilated by a larva."

Ozzerath cackled again, and somehow I got back up. I looked at him, terrified. I couldn't understand what he was saying. Genes? Overmind? Zerg? Sexual relations? Every word he spoke made little sense to me. Afterwards, he mentioned that I had the psychic emanations of a Zerg warrior, which made even less sense. After having explained this, Ozzerath ordered:

"Return to bed, young minion. You need your rest. Never forget that I am linked to you and that if you say a word of what has happened tonight, I will destroy you."

Frightened by the boulder's threats, I jumped back up on the bed and stared at the rock. He didn't say anything more that night, but I hardly slept. I was horrified beyond imagination. What is a Zerg? What are psychic emanations? Why did my dad carry Zerg genes? What are Zerg genes?

Was that an eye that just appeared on Ozzerath's shell before I fell asleep? A big, menacing, yellow eye?

THE END


End file.
